


Last Train to Brooklyn

by Somebodys_Nightmare



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Activism, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parenting, Bathroom Sex, Bookstores, Brooklyn, Car Sex, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Cocaine, Courtroom Drama, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Drama & Romance, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Hospitals, Hotel Sex, Hotels, Hurt/Comfort, Kitchen Sex, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Manhattan, Marijuana, Military, Morning Sex, Mountains, Mutual Pining, New York City, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Political Campaigns, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Revolutionaries, Romance, Rough Sex, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Skyscrapers, Slow Burn, Smut, Subways, Table Sex, Teaching, Texting, Therapy, Trains, War Trauma, Writer's Block, Writing, financial crimes, hints of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 153,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebodys_Nightmare/pseuds/Somebodys_Nightmare
Summary: New York City is supposed to be the place of big hopes and even bigger dreams. But when Cloud and Tifa reunite there more than a decade after separating in their hometown in Colorado, they’re both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes.  It doesn’t help that their instant attraction begins to muddle those promises, blurring the lines of their friendship as they both try to figure out who they truly are against the towering spires of the city’s skyline.Because guys and girls can’t only be friends, can they?
Relationships: Biggs/Jessie (Compilation of FFVII), Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Comments: 408
Kudos: 331
Collections: Cloud and Tifa





	1. I Wasn't Looking for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [legendaryboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryboo/gifts), [Stickyelectrons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stickyelectrons/gifts).



> Hi there!
> 
> This story was inspired by my love of New York City. I live on the East Coast and have many great memories of it. Thanks to Covid, I haven't been there in a while, and I miss it. And so many great love stories take place in New York, why not Cloud and Tifa?
> 
> This fic is also a gift for [legendaryboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryboo/gifts), because like her name implies, she's simply amazing.
> 
> A big thank you and a dozen kisses to my beta-reader and bestie,[ spaceOdementia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceOdementia/pseuds/spaceOdementia), for taking a critical eye to this story and really helping me tighten it up (even though this chapter is still dumb fucking long, lmao).
> 
> The story gets its title from two songs by The Midnight,[ Last Train ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7y8F-2lZwQ) and [ Brooklyn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ey30-sYvuU). This chapter is titled after a lyric from The Midnight Song [ Deep Blue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6D6iGeEl1o). They are all on the same album, _Monsters_ , and it is an entire fucking MOOD. I implore you to listen.
> 
> Also, there's a little hint of When Harry Met Sally in this, for those of you cultured enough to recognize it *wink*
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter One 

I Wasn’t Looking For You

She was going to miss the last train to Brooklyn. _Again_.

Getting stuck in Manhattan well after midnight was never a good idea. Cabs were expensive, and the city wasn’t exactly safe at most hours of the day, but especially not at this late hour. Not that Tifa was worried - she’d trained in Muay Thai, and she could defend herself if needed. She’d had to do so more than a few times since moving to the city.

Still, she reminded herself that getting stuck downtown was only going to mean a really expensive cab ride or a really long wait for the next train. Neither of which she was in the mood for.

She ran down the block, the crisp October wind filling her lungs with a sharp burn. SoHo was an artistic, rustic Manhattan neighborhood, cramped with narrow roads, shadowed by towering brick and iron buildings that stared down from overhead, remnants of eighteenth-century architecture that housed apartment complexes and galleries and over-priced restaurants. The sidewalks were dusty and gray, cracked in sporadic places, forcing her to watch her step as she ran down West Broadway towards Canal Street.

Tifa Lockhart was exhausted. It was Thursday, and she had been up since five o’clock that morning, making her way meticulously through her daily routine. Her schedule started with an early morning run through Prospect Park, before she showered and dressed for her morning graduate classes at Columbia University. By midday, she was headed back to her apartment in Brooklyn to eat and change again, before heading back downtown to SoHo to Seventh Heaven, the local nightclub where she both bartended and helped her friend Barret Wallace manage. Thursdays in the nightclub scene in New York City were practically considered Fridays by most entertainment standards, and they always felt like the true start of the workweek for Tifa.

At twenty-three years old, Tifa had been living in New York since she was thirteen, moving to the city with her father after the sudden death of her mother, back where they had lived in Breckenridge, Colorado. Breckenridge was a sleepy, picturesque Western town that lay nestled against the purples and whites of the Rocky Mountains, a quiet village with serene views, a close-knit and small population, and an impressive tourist portfolio. Tifa had not been back to the village since she’d left. 

The balls of her feet were pinched with pain from standing all night in her booted heels, and running down the concrete sidewalk was not proving to be very helpful. The wind began to pick up, whipping strands of her dark hair into her eyes, carrying with it the scents of something sweet and fried from a nearby street vendor. Around her, handfuls of people still roamed the streets, some alone and quiet, others in noisy packs, and the lights of the buildings above filtered a synthetic shine on their surroundings, basking the street in their ethereal yellow glows. She reached the corner of West Broadway, seeing the dark entrance to the subway below, and she ran for the stairs, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

The subway was dark with the exception of the glint of a few sporadic lights and the signs that signaled the arrival of oncoming trains. Tifa pulled her phone from her pocket to glance at the time, wincing that she had less than two minutes to make it to her train. She darted for the stairs, carefully making her way down the steep steps without grabbing onto the railing, appalled at the thought of the germy slime and fluid that might live on its surface. When she made it to the bottom, she veered to the left to run down the hallway, making her way for the platform for the trains that were headed to Brooklyn.

She was greeted by a cold gust when she entered the platform, the tunnels in front of her opening up like dark, underground caverns. Her train was already there, its sleek and gray surface gleaming in sparkles under the tiny overhead lamps that provided minimal light underground. The doors were still open, and Tifa gasped, hearing the droning robotic voice of the train’s announcement system.

_Stand clear of the closing doors, please._

She lunged forward, holding her purse tight to her side, her jog now breaking out into a sprint as she made her way for the M train’s sliding doors. When she was less than a foot away, the doors were sliding closed, and stupidly, Tifa leaned forward and thrust an arm into the gap, trying to buy herself enough leverage to make it inside of the train. The doors tried to close and then reopened slightly again, allowing her a little more room to wriggle her shoulder in, only before they attempted to slam shut again, sending a shockwave of pain through her torso.

“Shit!” 

She felt the train shift slightly, and Tifa began to panic as the doors fluttered in confusion around her. She glanced down at the gap between the train and the platform, a plunge that she was now hovering right over. Whipping her head from side to side in fear, Tifa tried to push her way through the door, but even though it wasn’t closing fully, it still didn’t give enough for her to completely make her way through, and as she tried to tug back in the opposite direction to back out, she realized with horror that she was stuck.

She was about to scream when she saw a pair of slender, pale hands grip each of the doors and force them apart from inside of the train, just as it began to move along the tracks. She _did_ scream when she felt those hands grabbing her forearms, and then her shoulders, pulling her against a hard body that she instantly collided with before she fell forward, crashing to a heap on the other side, into the car. The train was now fully moving, and she could feel its subtle jerk as she tried to clear her vision and push the tremors of terror from her brain.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , was all she was thinking as she scrambled for purchase, flailing her arms around. _You almost killed yourself_.

A moment passed in a flash before she could see straight, and she realized that she was lying face down on the ground, opening her eyes to see the dirty floor of the train. But there was something warm beneath her, heated and pulsing. As she shook the fog of her near-brush with death away, she pulled back and realized that she was lying on top of a body.

A man’s body.

She was frozen into place, her heart doubled up and racing in her throat as she stared down at the man who had saved her life, who she now lay on top of and who had his hands carefully on her back to keep her from rolling into the benches or the stanchions where she could have hurt herself when they broke their fall. He was blonde, she noticed immediately, and his hair was messy and wild, framing his face in fluffy, golden spikes around his head. His face was boyish and handsome, pale skin that nearly glowed under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the interior of the train, littered with pale pink freckles that she could see from where she was pressed close atop him. She felt his body responding to the press of hers atop it, his fingertips digging into the fabric of her jacket above her shoulder blades. She shuddered, her eyes stuck scanning his face, drinking in every detail.

He was hopelessly attractive, the reptilian part of her brain immediately asserted.

Yet it was his eyes that captivated her instantly, an endless sea of deep blue, sparkling across the short space between them with fierce intensity, with their own level of panic as they widened at the sight of her. Their oceanic pools reeled her in, sinking her into a splash of color, swirling in the depths of his irises. She was lost for a moment in that sea of blue, and the entirety of the picture that was painted before her dragged her into a memory that was far away in the past, long ago forgotten, so hazy and nebulous it was almost as if it weren’t real.

_Do you promise?_

_But you’re the one who’s leaving._

_Promise me!_

“…Tifa?” The man finally spoke, pushing at her shoulders slightly so that she was slowly moving away from him, and Tifa’s heart stopped beating, all of the air rushing out of her lungs as a thousand realizations slammed into her at once.

“Cloud?”

The memory whipped and assailed her, and she stared at him, her eyes widening as recognition flooded her brain like a dam had been breached. His eyes were still locked with hers, time freezing around them.

“Oh!” Tifa exclaimed after a long moment, her wits reorienting as she remembered how close they were pressed to one another. She tried to pull away from him immediately, but she suddenly found that her muscles were weak and unresponsive, and she almost fell back over onto his chest. But Cloud held her steady, his hands sliding from her shoulders to her upper arms to brace her, before he carefully and steadily pushed her back so that she could gain her footing. Her face brightened as she realized she had felt every hard line of him under her, and she backed away to the opposite side of the car, bumping into the stanchion behind her before she careened and fell into a clumsy seat on the bench behind her.

Tifa’s mouth fell open as her brain tried to organize thoughts into a coherent stream and then send them to her mouth. Cloud carefully picked himself up off of the train car’s filthy floor, righting himself to his feet and instantly brushing off his clothing and jacket with both hands. Tifa’s eyes wandered up his slender, toned build, his body cut and defined even under his black hooded jacket and the dark uniform he wore beneath it. She stared, dumbfounded and awestruck by the sight in front of him.

She had known this boy so many years ago, back in her sleepy little town of Breckenridge. They had been friends once. They had even shared a sweet, innocent promise a few days before her father had moved her all the way across the country to the East Coast. She hadn’t seen him since she was thirteen, over ten years ago.

“Cloud... What are you…?” Her voice faltered, cracking and falling away in a spill around her as the train picked up speed along the tracks, the lights dimming slightly in the subway tunnel it passed through. She chanced a moment to glance around, noting that they were the only ones inside of this car. It was late - just after one in the morning, and this train was usually light on passengers. She took in a deep breath as she turned back to him, realizing that her hands were actually shaking at her sides.

Cloud was staring at her so intently that it made her heart begin to thunder inside of her chest. His blue eyes were like bright beacons, glowing as they stared at her, settling on her face and probing her deeply. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so unmasked by a person’s eyes alone, and their intensity forced her to turn away, glancing down at her boots as she felt her cheeks warm again.

“Tifa…” he was saying, and the way that her name rolled off of his tongue sent a spark flying through her brain, lit on fire and trailing warmth between her knees. She hadn’t heard his voice in a decade, and while she had thought of him from time to time, she had never really imagined what he might look or sound like now. Yet his voice was smooth, had deepened in the years since she’d heard it last, and its cadence rippled its way into her chest in threads, some burying into her heart, others into the pit of her belly. His tone was lilting and soft, but there was also something scolding in his tone.

“Why did you try to push open the doors?” he asked, now sounding incredulous, his eyes narrowing a little as they focused. “You could have been killed!”

Again, Tifa felt her face warm over threefold, and she tore her eyes away from his, unable to sit under the steely demands of his stare. For someone who hadn’t seen her in a decade, the look in his eyes was certainly knowing and weighted on her face.

“I…” her words were still not forming coherently, trapped somewhere between the awe of the sudden appearance of her childhood friend, the beauty that he’d grown into, and the way that his eyes seemed to be intent to flay the flesh right off of her body.

“That was crazy,” he added.

He sighed then, leaning back against the back of the bench he was sitting on, his knees widening slightly. Tifa watched him for a moment, realizing that her right knee was buckling from side to side. She forced herself to stop and straightened up a little, focusing on him again.

“What are you doing in New York?” she asked him suddenly, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. “I haven’t seen you since I left Breckenridge. It’s… been so long.”

Cloud’s features softened, but his eyes remained bright, blazing as they continued to memorize her face. “I just moved here a week ago.”

He stopped, looking away from her finally, his eyes drifting down to his hands, which lay in the center of his lap. Tifa frowned a little, wondering why he stopped so suddenly. Sensing that he was dropping the line of conversation, she leaned forward to press it on.

“From Breckenridge?” she asked him curiously.

Cloud looked up at her again, his eyes still alight but leveling out somehow, as if the storm that lived in them was calming. “I just got out of the Army.”

Tifa cocked an eyebrow slightly as she looked up at him, finding his answer only somewhat surprising. Lots of guys her age, especially from rural towns like Breckenridge, ended up joining the military when there weren’t a lot of other options, and with the ceaseless wars the country had been in since their early adolescence, it was one of the most stable options a young guy or gal from the poorer side of the tracks could hope for. Tifa couldn’t remember what Cloud had really been interested in when they were young, but she did remember that he had always been pretty aimless.

“The Army?” she repeated, just as the train approached one of its first stops in Lower Manhattan, the robotic voice droning its announcements as the dreaded doors that had almost split her in half swished open and then closed again. “Were you overseas?”

She saw something dark flash through Cloud’s sapphire gaze, and he was looking down again at his hands, which were folded together between his knees. “Yeah. For a few years.”

He didn’t elaborate, and she could see that he was once again directing his gaze and his focus away from her, not wanting to meet her eyes. Tifa inhaled deeply as the train began to move along the tracks again, and through its tinted windows she could see that they were pulling away from Manhattan’s isle, surrounded by the dark tile of the subway’s tunnel system as they crossed the murky waters of the East River toward Brooklyn.

The conversation had withered to a death, but a thought inspired Tifa. “Where are you headed?” she asked.

“Brooklyn,” Cloud answered after a pause.

Tifa sat up straighter, realizing they were en route to the same destination.

“I live in Park Slope.”

“Yeah, me too,” Cloud responded.

A long silence passed as the train moved along the tracks, and Tifa let her eyes fall into her lap. Her childhood friend - if he could be called that - looked at her for a moment longer before his own cheeks began to flare and his face dropped to his lap. From where she sat, Tifa could see his knee begin to rock quietly back and forth.

Tifa had not seen Cloud Strife since she was thirteen years old, but her memories of him began to return in quiet, fresh waves. Before she moved from Breckenridge - before her mother died - Tifa and Cloud had lived next door to one another. She remembered how she would run into him on her way to school in the mornings, and how eventually, he began to wait for her outside of her house so they could walk together. She remembered glancing back at him in class - Cloud always sat at the back of the room, quiet and disinterested in what the rest of the class was doing, rarely speaking until the teacher called on him for something. She remembered how their eyes would sometimes connect across the cafeteria at lunchtime, but how they never sat together, Tifa with her own group of friends and Cloud content to eat alone.

Tifa shoved the gray, intrusive thoughts to the side, instead sitting up straighter against the bench, the wails of the train’s wheels across the tracks fading into the night behind her. Unable to resist the intrigue, Tifa leaned forward and glanced at Cloud.

“When did you leave the village?”

Cloud sighed in response, keeping his eyes focused on his hands. Tifa realized she wanted badly for him to look up at her, if for no other reason than for her to fall back into his endless blue depths. Her memories of Cloud Strife were far in between, and all of them were hazy, but she remembered his eyes almost more than she remembered anything else at all. Their color was the same as the sky above the Rockies when the sun had completely faded away, a deep cerulean that was illuminated by an unobstructed sea of stars. 

“After high school,” Cloud answered, his eyes meeting hers again, “I’ve been overseas for almost six years.”

His voice trailed off, and all that was left was the screech of iron as the train carried them through the darkness of the tunnels across New York’s watery enclaves into the borough of Brooklyn. Cloud pointedly avoided her stare, at one point pulling his phone from his pocket to glance at, and Tifa found herself feeling severely disappointed, wanting nothing more than for their eyes to connect again.

Eventually, the train stopped again, and Tifa glanced up to see that they had arrived in Park Slope. The station beyond the glass was even darker and grittier than the one in Manhattan, and Tifa pulled her purse closer to her waist, securing it against her with her elbow.

“Where in Park Slope do you live?” Cloud was suddenly at her side where they stood on the subway platform, just as the last train began to pull away. A gust of wind was left in its wake, and it blew a ripple across his fine, golden hair, and Tifa couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting upwards to watch.

“I live on Sterling Place,” Tifa replied as they made their way towards the subway’s stairs to the world above. “It’s right off of Metropolitan and Bedford.”

“I know where it is,” Cloud answered from behind her on the steps. “I live on Sterling, too.”

Tifa’s eyebrows went up even higher as she emerged on the street above the subway’s depth, surrounded now by Brooklyn’s dark night. Park Slope was a chic and populated neighborhood, quieter than most Brooklyn localities but still drawing a cosmopolitan crowd to its nightlife, and even at nearly two in the morning, Tifa noticed several people still on the street. Though Tifa still found herself unnerved by New York’s endless sleeplessness, she was grateful for the presence of other people around her, especially since she didn’t own a car and spent the majority of her travels on foot, alone.

As if reading her thoughts, Cloud came up beside her, hovering just a few inches away, and she could faintly detect the scent of the aftershave he wore, a woody, spiced flavor that ignited something warm inside of her, as if she had pumped the billows of a fireplace that lived in the center of her belly. His hair was drifting again against the casual wave of the October winds, and as her eyes traveled up the lean, hard lines of his body that were trapped in dark clothing, she realized he was not very tall, but stood just a few comfortable inches above her. From where they stood, if she leaned forward just a little bit, she could tip her forehead into the crook of his neck and lean safe and warm against him.

Her cheeks brightened at that intrusive thought, and she turned away, just as his eyebrow was starting to rise with realization at the color that had developed in her cheeks. As her hands began to take on the chill of Brooklyn’s autumn night, she turned away and began to make her way down Bergen Street, away from the station. Sterling was only a few short blocks away.

“I’ll walk you home,” Cloud offered, falling in step beside her.

Tifa started to protest, not wanting him to waste any more of his time on her. She was still hot with embarrassment from her flailing antics on the train, and of the way his rescue of her had winded up with her flat across his warm, hard body. 

Warm, hard. She had to stop thinking these things.

Still, she was comforted by his presence as they made their way down the street, her boots clicking against the concrete making the only sound, aside from the occasional roll of tires in the asphalt of the street beside them. This part of Park Slope was a largely quiet, residential neighborhood, and most of the local bars and restaurants had already closed for the evening. The only business they passed that was still open was a twenty-four hour bodega that stood on the corner of Bergen and Sterling. As they rounded past it, the chill now eating away into Tifa’s bones, she could no longer stand the silence that was growing between them. She tried to remember if Cloud had always been this quiet, but she found that her memories of him and of Breckenridge altogether were fuzzy and difficult to recall.

“Did you like being in the Army?” Tifa asked, unsure of what else to say.

She heard Cloud scoff at her side before he plunged his hands into his pockets. A long silence passed again, and Tifa almost turned to him to repeat herself, thinking that maybe he hadn’t heard her. Instead, he kept his dark blue eyes trained on the ground as he spoke.

“It was a war,” was all he said in response. “What’s not to like?”

_Sarcasm_ , Tifa thought bitterly at his tone, and mentally, she kicked herself for the carelessness of her question. She thought instantly of Barret and their huddled group of activists who met in the back of Seventh Heaven, decrying the country’s current military conflicts and its endless pursuit of cheap energy. The war had been going on since she and Cloud were kids, and she knew that most vets didn’t like to talk about their experiences overseas. Barret, who had fought in the country’s first war for oil years ago, was likely a rare exception to that rule.

She started to apologize for her intrusiveness, digging her own hands into her pockets, but Cloud was speaking again. “How about you? You’ve lived out here since you left Colorado?”

Tifa turned to him, and she saw that his bright, aquamarine eyes were now on her face. Under the cool, white glow of the streetlights overhead, it seemed like they were glowing, refracting a sparkling electricity that was illuminated by the glint of the constellations that lived buried in their depths.

Tifa expelled a tiny sigh, realizing how much time and space had grown between them since they last saw each other as children.

“Yes. Well, I just moved to Park Slope about a year ago, when I started graduate school. My dad still lives on the Upper East Side.”

“Graduate school?” he repeated, skimming right past the detail about her father.

“I go to Columbia. I’m studying business,” Tifa answered, and she looked up at him, finding his eyes had been studying the side of her face. Their eyes met, and she felt her cheeks grow warm again, and she tore quickly away from him to stare again at the concrete beneath her feet.

“Isn’t that school hard to get into?” he asked her.

“I went there for undergrad, too,” Tifa answered. “It’s an Ivy League, but it’s not what people think it is.”

“You always were really smart,” Cloud said softly at her side.

Tifa blushed again, but before she could respond, she realized that they had arrived at her apartment, a two-story brownstone where she lived on the second floor with her roommate. She stopped in front of the black iron gates that lined the sidewalk, turning to Cloud and pulling her hands from her pockets, folding them in front of her.

“This is me,” she said softly.

“Really? I live across the street,” he turned and pointed to a tall, gray apartment complex, a pair of twin buildings that stood on the opposite side of the road.

“This night has just been full of coincidences,” Tifa grinned at him, her eyes connecting with his again, and she felt herself beginning to drown in the endless blue oasis that made his gaze. She shuffled one foot behind the other, feeling suddenly self-conscious, her nerves failing.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into an old friend tonight, either,” Cloud admitted, running his hand across the back of his neck, “Much less find out I’m her neighbor.”

Tifa hummed, turning toward the gate that enclosed her building. Before she could open it, she felt Cloud’s hand at her shoulder, stopping her.

“Tifa, wait.”

She turned to him, ruby crashing into sapphire as their eyes met again, his seeming to glow under the dark Brooklyn sky, the moon’s shine the only galactic light that could tear through the city’s light and smog pollution. 

“I… where were you coming from tonight? Do you take the train every night?”

Tifa felt her stomach flip and turn inside of her at the tentative, quiet tenor in his voice. She realized that they had taken the same train from Manhattan home together, but hadn’t discussed why.

“Oh, I work at a club in SoHo. Seventh Heaven,” she answered, tipping her head at him slightly so that a spill of dark hair tumbled over her shoulder. “I work every night except Sundays and Mondays.”

Cloud stopped rubbing his neck, dropping both hands into his pockets again. He rocked back slightly on his heels as he considered his next words. “I work security at the energy plant a few blocks away from there. Maybe I could walk you to the train when you get off of work tomorrow? I don’t really like the idea of you being out in the city so late at night alone.”

His voice had taken on such a low tone that it was almost suggestive, and Tifa’s entire body suddenly felt warm, his words sliding over her with a vibration.

“You know, I have a black belt in Muay Thai,” Tifa asserted, trying to fling the effect his words had on her body away. She lifted a finger into the air and pointed it at him. “I’ve been taking the train home by myself for years.”

Cloud was staring right at her. “I’d like to see you again, and I don’t want you almost killing yourself on a train like that,” he added quickly.

Tifa’s heart began to spin in her chest a few times before it started to race, loud in her ears and making her feel like she couldn’t breathe. His words fell on her with an echo, landing at her feet and almost forcing her to take a step back. 

_He is so handsome_ , she thought distractedly, just as his fist clenched slightly at his side. _When did he grow up to be so beautiful?_

The movement of his hand broke her out of her stare, and she nodded. “Okay, fine. During the week, I usually leave Seventh Heaven around midnight. On weekends, it’s a lot later, so you don’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s fine,” he told her with a tip of his head. “Let me get your number.”

_Wow_ , Tifa thought, breathless again. 

She watched as he shifted his weight across both feet, as if his own forwardness had unnerved him. She reached out her palm to him, and he stared at it for a moment.

“Your phone?” she prompted, and he slid it out of his jacket’s pocket, unlocking the screen before he handed it to her.

She navigated to his contacts and quickly stored her name and number. As she clicked past her name, she bit her bottom lip and looked up at him, catching him watching her as he waited. She looked back down at the screen and, impulsively, added a blue heart emoji to the tail end of her name before she saved the contact and deadened the screen, handing the phone back to him.

“Text me later so I have yours,” she told him, surprised by how soft her voice had grown.

He nodded, but didn’t say anything further, standing in place. Tifa realized that he was waiting for her to go inside of her apartment before he departed.

“Alright, then,” she turned, pushing past the gate and making her way up the stone steps, feeling his stare on the back of her body. When she reached the door, she turned back to him where he stood on the sidewalk, his eyes glowing up at her. 

“Goodnight,” she said over her shoulder as she pushed open the door and went inside.

“Goodnight, Tifa.”

* * *

“Who was that?”

Tifa sighed as she stepped inside of the apartment that she shared with her roommate, Aerith Gainsborough, who was lying across the couch in their expansive living room, a tall, berry-colored drink in one hand. Their wall-mounted television was quietly airing a reality television series about West Coast mansion life in the background.

Tifa glanced at her phone, making a note of the time. Why Aerith was still awake, she had no idea, but she could only sigh at her best friend’s nosy intrusiveness.

“What are you talking about, Aerith?”

Aerith sat up, folding her long, pale legs underneath herself on the couch. She took a sip from the straw of her drink, then leaned forward and placed the glass on the coffee table. “I was worried about you, because it was getting late,” she responded. “Didn’t you get my texts? Anyway, I was looking out the window for you, when I saw you chatting it up with a handsome blond stranger on the sidewalk.” She leaned back against the couch triumphantly, grinning at Tifa as she waited for her to elaborate.

Tifa shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the door and dropping her keys on the small table beside it. She kicked her sore feet out of her boots, stretching her toes out against the soft carpet as she crossed into the living room. She dropped into the armchair across from Aerith, stretching her legs out.

“What are you doing up, still?” Tifa asked, deciding to ignore her question. She nodded her head at the drink that Aerith had picked up and brought to her lips again. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow morning?”

Aerith tossed her head back with a laugh after swallowing back a sip of her drink, her bright, emerald green eyes dancing with mirth. “Tifa, tomorrow is the state teacher’s convention. Schools are closed. Three day weekend for me!”

Aerith, twenty-four years old, petite in build but vivacious in personality, flowing chestnut brown hair and sparkling viridian eyes, was a third-grade teacher at a local public school in Brooklyn. Like Tifa, Aerith was also in graduate school, though she took her classes in the evenings, studying in Columbia’s prestigious botany program.

“Anyway,” Aerith carried on, brushing her long bangs away from her face. “The _boy_ , Tifa.”

Tifa smirked at Aerith, knowing her to be relentless. Aerith had been her best friend since she started high school, where they both attended a small but exclusive private school Upstate. Aerith had moved to New York from Oregon with her adoptive mother, Elmyra, who had taken her in after her mother had died unexpectedly. Tifa’s own mother had died before her father moved them to New York, and she had found herself drawn to Aerith, who had seemed so sad and distant that first day that they met on campus in the ninth grade. The two quickly bonded over the losses they had both so suddenly had to face in their young lives, and they had become inseparable over the years that followed.

“He’s just an old friend,” Tifa finally answered. “From Breckenridge. I ran into him on the train. He just got out of the army, and he moved here to New York. He works at the energy plant that’s a few blocks from Seventh Heaven. He… walked me home.”

“Ooohh,” Aerith gushed, leaning forward again. She took another long sip on her straw, almost draining the drink to its ice. “Hm, this is really good, Tifa. Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. I’m exhausted and I really don’t want to add alcohol on top of it tonight.”

“You don’t have class tomorrow!”

Tifa shrugged and closed her eyes.

“Anyway,” Aerith went on, setting her glass down again. “This boy - childhood friend, huh? Does he have a name? Were you close when you knew him back then?”

“His name is Cloud,” Tifa answered without opening her eyes. “We… weren’t exactly close, but we were… friendly, I guess.”

Aerith rubbed her palms together. “It seems to me that fates and the spirts have something in store for you, Tifa!” she exclaimed, and clasped her hand around a jade-colored crystal that hung from a leather choker at her neck. “Maybe that rose crystal I gave you is finally working its magic. It’s too much of a coincidence that such a handsome boy from your past suddenly shows up on the exact same train, in the exact same city, after so long.”

Tifa waved a hand in the air. Where she was practical, Aerith was a complete mystic, buying into every New Age spiritual belief in the book. Healing crystals were her current obsession, and she had taken to leaving them everywhere in the apartment, including in Tifa’s bedroom.

“You know I don’t buy into that stuff, Aerith,” Tifa responded, her mouth stretching open into a yawn.

Aerith clicked her tongue. “Oh, please, Tifa. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t feel a little fortuitous? I mean, what are the chances that he would wind up _literally_ working around the corner from you, and taking the very same train?”

“He also lives across the street.”

Aerith clapped her hands in front of her, breaking out into a shrill giggle. “Oh, this is _too_ good. Did he ask you on a date? Please tell me you guys are going to catch up with each other over a date.”

Tifa finally opened her eyes again, glancing over at Aerith. “Aerith, we are just friends, if you can even call it that. I just ran into him and he kept me from nearly killing myself on the train. It’s nothing more than that.”

Aerith sucked her teeth loudly, clearly not buying it. “Oh, Tifa. I could see the way he was staring at you from _here_ ,” she flared dramatically. “He was completely awestruck. I wonder how he managed to hold it together the entire time he walked you home.” She stopped, her dark green eyes widening with a sudden realization. “Oh, my god. He walked you home from the train! How romantic. It’s like a movie, Tifa!”

“He offered to walk me home every night,” Tifa added quietly.

The squeal that Aerith emitted was earsplitting, and Tifa winced slightly. Aerith was suddenly at her feet.

“The crystal is working,” she declared, pointing one finger into the air. “I’m going to string it to a necklace for you so you can wear it like mine. Now, I don’t care what you say, but you _are_ having one of these yummy cocktails with me. I may be no mixologist like you, but I’m pretty damn proud of myself for this one.”

Tifa watched as her friend bent down to pick up her glass, then disappeared into the kitchen down the hall, giggling as she went, clearly already tipsy from whatever concoction she had pulled together. Tifa couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s bubbling enthusiasm, and her excitement made her wonder about the way that Cloud looked at her as he waited for her to put her number into his phone. His eyes were so blue and bright they shone like headlights in the night, his hair was still as wild and yellow and soft as she remembered it, now cut short at the nape of his neck, reminding her of a baby chick. Her smile widened at the picture of his handsome, boyish face that was suddenly painted in her mind.

It had been so long since she had seen him last, and her memories of him were still hazy. He’d lived next door to her in Breckenridge, alone with only his mother, in a house much smaller and quieter than hers. She and Cloud often spent time outside in each other’s yards, staring up at the stars, or sometimes they would meet in Breckenridge’s only park in the center of town, sitting back to back as they stared up at the sky and talked about school and the things they were interested in, like Tifa’s love of music and Cloud’s love of books.

But then the accident happened, a cold November day that brought with it Breckenridge’s first winter snowfall. The roads had been icy, and as her father drove them through the town’s seemingly quiet streets, another car had entered into the intersection, disregarding its red light. Tifa still remembered the screech of tires as the driver had slammed onto his brakes, but it had been too late, and his car T-boned into them, hitting them on the passenger side.

Tifa had smacked her head against the car's window in the backseat and ended up in a coma for nearly a week. When she woke up in the hospital, her father at her side with his head in his hands, her mother, who had not been wearing her seatbelt and had been catapulted through the windshield, was dead.

Tifa’s father, who was a bank manager and whose financial prowess had made them one of the wealthiest families in town, could no longer live in Breckenridge after her mother’s death. Having always wanted to work on Wall Street, but choosing the placid, quiet life out West at her mother’s urging, her father made the decision to move them to New York not even a month after her mother had been buried in the ground. Numb from the entire ordeal, Tifa could scarcely remember packing all of her belongings up, saying goodbye to her friends and neighbors in town and emptying her locker at school, flying across the country to an enormous flat that was far too big for just the two of them.

She did remember, though, her last moment with Cloud Strife, the sweet, quiet boy who lived next door and who always seemed to be there whenever she needed someone to talk to or confide in, always there to listen to her.

_New York is a scary place. People get murdered there all the time._

_It’s not that bad, Tifa._

_I’m scared! Just promise me that you’ll be there for me if I ever call you and tell you I’m in trouble, Cloud._

_You won’t need me. And how will I even get to New York?_

_Do you promise?_

_But you’re the one who’s leaving._

_Promise me!_

_Okay, fine. I promise._

Tifa smiled sadly at the memory, just as Aerith returned with her drink, offering her the cold, tall glass. Tifa accepted it, bringing the straw to her lips.

Cloud had been right, she realized. She had never called for him, not once over the years. In fact, she was painfully reminded that she had let all communication between them die completely, to the point that she had almost completely forgotten him.

Almost.

As the cool, sweetly tart liquid slid down her throat, setting her blood aflame with the first touch of its alcohol, Tifa wondered idly if he still remembered the promise they had shared that night under Breckenridge’s bright, navy blue sky that was littered with stars, a sky that she would never see here in New York City.

* * *

Sunlight was streaming in thick rays into Cloud’s room from the window across from his bed, and he could feel the burn of it against his retinas as he emerged from a restless and incomplete slumber, his arms folded behind his head. He winced against the intrusive pain of the light, and eventually, he groaned and opened his eyes to the morning, relenting to daybreak.

He stared at the window for a moment, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. A terrible sleep that hadn’t really felt like the deep, rapid-eye-movement sleep of true rest, but instead like a hazy dream that he was stumbling through, his thoughts keeping him from fully falling under.

Thoughts of Tifa.

Cloud had been unable to pull the girl he had grown up next door to out of his mind for the entire night once he returned to the apartment he shared with his roommate, Zack Fair. He hadn’t seen her in years, over a decade, in fact, even though he admitted to himself that he had thought of her often as time passed. And while he knew that she had moved to New York all of those years ago, he never expected that he might run into her here, and so close to the place he’d taken up as a job, _and_ living right across the street from him.

Cloud had always been drawn to Tifa, ever since they were young kids. He remembered the first time he saw her, when they started kindergarten together. Even then, Tifa had been a cute kid, with her shining, dark crimson eyes that were unlike anything he had ever seen before, dark hair that had been long even then. Even at that age, Tifa was always friendly and sweet, and Cloud, who was hopelessly quiet and shy, somehow felt comfortable enough in her presence to talk to her without feeling like his tongue had swollen into a thick mass in his mouth. She had only gotten nicer and sweeter and prettier as they’d gotten older, and by the time they were in middle school, it was safe to say that Cloud was developing a crush on her.

But then her family had a terrible car accident that killed her mother and put Tifa into the hospital, and by the month’s end, she had moved away from Breckenridge forever.

Seeing her again tonight, her body pressed to his as they tumbled to the train car’s floor following her mishap in the sliding doors, reignited old feelings and set new ones aflame, as he realized that Tifa was a woman now, a beautiful, shapely one at that. And apparently, she was smart and accomplished, in graduate school at one of the best universities in the world, when Cloud hadn’t even bothered going to fucking college.

No wonder she had never reached out to him over the years, even after she’d made him promise to be there for her if she ever needed him.

Clearly, she hadn’t, and he was surprised by how angry it made him.

Cloud, who had met his best friend Zack Fair while they were in the Army, both stationed overseas, had moved to Brooklyn just over a week ago. They had both been discharged from the Army upon completion of their tours overseas, and Zack, not interested in returning to the small town living of Pennsylvania, had been the one to come up with the idea of moving to New York together. Zack was interested in joining the police force, and while Cloud wanted to one day write a book, he still had little idea of his next step in life. Zack, however, was convinced that the big city held all of the keys to their future.

“Endless opportunities await us in the Big Apple,” Zack had proclaimed as they departed from their connecting flight at John F. Kennedy Airport, riding the escalator down to the platform below. “Time to embrace our dreams.”

Cloud, whose only interest was writing, had yet to figure out what those dreams were exactly, taking up the first job offer he’d gotten since moving to the city, working security for the local energy company downtown. It was dull work, manning the front gate late into the night when the only traffic that came into the huge building were deliveries and the change of shifts of employees. Cloud wasn’t exactly sure why an energy company needed security, but the salary was good, even if the hours were long and late, and he wasn’t about to complain, especially because living in Park Slope was fucking expensive.

He sat up on the bed, stretching his arms above his head before swinging out of bed to rise for the day. After brushing his teeth and pulling a teeshirt over his head, he ventured down the hall and made his way into the living room, finding Zack seated on the couch, crouched over a bowl of cereal as he watched television.

“Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Zack beamed at him, his bright, sky blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “You got home late last night, huh? It’s almost ten o’clock.”

“These late nights are killing me,” Cloud responded. He nodded at the bowl that was teetering in Zack’s lap. “Any more of that left?”

“Yeah, I left the box on the counter.”

Cloud nodded and turned to head into the kitchen, fixing himself a bowl. The stuff was the kind of cereal that kids shouldn’t be eating but probably did anyway, rotting their teeth. Cloud shook his head as he thought about their threadbare kitchen that was stocked with similarly unhealthy items and a whole lot of junk, not a fresh vegetable or slab of meat or fish or fowl to be found anywhere. Most nights they ended up consuming takeout, exhausting the local food delivery apps on both of their phones. It was pitiful that they hadn’t cooked a meal since they moved here. Cloud couldn’t cook much of anything, his mother had always cooked for him, and he didn’t really trust Zack near a stove or anything else with open flame.

He brought his bowl and a glass of orange juice into the living room, falling into a seat next to Zack on the couch. Zack scooted over to make room for him, and Cloud carefully balanced his bowl on his knees as he began to eat.

“Long night?” Zack asked around bitefulls. “How you liking this job?”

Cloud shrugged, chewing through the fruity, too sweet cereal, wincing slightly at the assault of sugar on his tongue. He swallowed it down roughly. “It’s boring,” Cloud responded. “But the pay isn’t bad. Are you going into the academy today?”

Zack shook his head, grabbing his orange juice from the coffee table and drinking down a long gulp. He was currently a cadet in the New York City Police Department, training in its police academy for the next six months. “Naw, off this afternoon. You working again?”

“Late,” Cloud conceded, picking up his own orange juice and sipping at it. He set the bowl down on the coffee table, finding the sugary grains disgusting. “ How can you eat this stuff?”

“It’s not that bad,” Zack protested, swallowing back the rest of his orange juice. 

Cloud was silent again for a moment as he thought about Tifa again, her face conjured up into a sweet, red and black and pale white image in front of him. He briefly considered mentioning her to Zack, but ultimately decided against it. Zack, who had insisted that _embracing their dreams_ meant hooking up with beautiful New York women, would likely just get carried away if Cloud even made mention of anything in a skirt. The last thing he wanted was to hear Zack’s merciless teasing and prodding.

“I’m going for a walk,” Cloud said after a moment, pushing away from the couch and gathering up his bowl and glass. “I can’t eat any more of this.”

“If you’re going to the corner store,” Zack interjected, “Bring me back a bacon, egg, and cheese. On a croissant.”

Cloud rolled his eyes, leaving Zack to drop his dishes in the sink in the kitchen, trekking toward the rear of the house to shower and dress for the day. He still had a few hours before his shift, and he wasn’t about to spend it sitting around the house all day, especially when the fall weather outside was still nice in the mornings and early afternoons. He dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue henley, throwing on a heavy black hoodie and shoving his laptop in his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

When he came back to the living room, Zack was doing squats in front of the television, watching a pair of sports pundits argue about a recent professional basketball game. He turned to Cloud and gave him a wave, and Cloud just nodded before he made his way out of the apartment and headed for the elevators.

Outside, the weather was brisk and cool with a slight breeze, not too frigid to require too many layers of clothing, but still enough to inspire a slight chill in one’s bones. It was early enough in the morning that the sun was high and bright in the sky, the streets dotted with people who were making their way towards the subways into Manhattan to start the workday. Cloud shoved his hands into his pockets, shouldering his messenger bag, making his way down Sterling Place, unable to stop himself from glancing across the street up at Tifa’s brownstone.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted back to her, intrigued by the classic and picturesque building she lived in. Zack and Cloud had found the cheapest apartment complex they could find in the borough, and their rent was still exorbitant, but Tifa lived in one of the kinds of buildings that only rich hipsters and yuppies could afford. He wondered how she managed to afford to stay in a place like that on a bartender’s salary, and something ticked away at his memory, reminding him that Tifa had always been one of the wealthiest kids in town, her father a banker or a financier or something like that.

As he made his way into the bodega on the corner to order a decent breakfast - he was definitely not buying Zack a fucking bacon, egg, and cheese - he frowned inwardly as he tried to recall his memories of Tifa when they were young. Her father had never been a particularly pleasant man, he recalled, and Cloud never understood why he was always so grim-faced and angry. Tifa’s mother, who had been good friends with his own and had frequently been his mother’s guest for wine in their living room, had been the opposite of her dad, always smiling and happy and effervescent, a resplendent ray of sunshine that seemed to consume everyone that she was around. Tifa was thankfully much, much more like her mother, he remembered, always willing to share a smile with him, even when he wasn’t the most buoyant and lively kid in the neighborhood. She still always managed to invite him in or find time to talk to him, even when she knew that he wasn’t interested in being around her other friends or most of the kids that they went to school with.

After paying for his sandwich, Cloud unwrapped it and began to scarf it down as he walked down the blocks toward Prospect Park, a sprawling, green enterprise that was centered between several of Brooklyn’s concrete and wrought iron neighborhoods, a glowing dot of perfectly trimmed verdant flora among the urban chaos of the borough. It was Cloud’s favorite place to spend his mornings before he had to head to his job, his favorite place to work, to clear his head enough to tap out a coherent thought onto his laptop’s screen in front of him.

Prospect Park was huge, one of the largest parks in the borough, a staggering five hundred and twenty-six acres of windy asphalt pathways and dark green fields, playgrounds for small kids and a winding watercourse that split through its center in an arrangement of streams and kettle ponds and waterways. Cloud always chose a bench at one far side of the park that was sheltered under the canopy of several elm trees that leaned against the park’s boathouse, right at the edge of the largest lake in the park. No one was on the water currently, and this section of the park was always quiet, save for the occasional runners who sped by on the track just beyond the grass.

Cloud settled on the bench beneath a large capertown elm, sliding his laptop from his bag as he balanced it on his knees. The trees that filled the park were beginning to shed their leaves, bright, beautiful colors of orange and red that drifted in the gentle breeze across the grass. He admired the scenery for a long moment before he opened the word processor on his laptop’s screen.

Cloud stared for a long time at the blank white screen in front of him, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The words “Chapter One” stared at him in bold typeface from the top of the screen, the only characters on the page. They had been staring at him for the last several days ever since he had moved to New York and had been trying to get his thoughts out onto the page.

Cloud wasn’t sure what he wanted to write about. Ever since he had been a kid back in Breckenridge, he had been drawn to books, had lived off of spending his time reading. His favorites had always been, and were still to this day, science fiction classics and the high-fantasy medieval novels that told stories of bravery and gallant heroes, stories brimmed with magic and thrilling, sensual romances. Eventually, he would start to spend his time writing his own stories, applying his pen to pad to jot down his ideas about his own heroes, aspirations of himself and a life that wasn’t real and that he could never have.

As he grew older, he grew deeper into genres that would tear him away from the realities and the doldrums in his life, especially after Tifa moved away and he found it harder to make friends in Breckenridge, withdrawing into himself. Cloud’s teenage years had been lonely and disruptive. Breckenridge, like most rural villages in the West, was a small town where everyone knew everyone else. There was one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school in their town, and he had grown up with the same group of kids practically from kindergarten. Tifa had moved away before he had started his freshman year of high school, leaving Cloud around kids who had liked her but had never really cared for him or even paid him much mind. He mostly ignored them, staying to himself throughout high school, and he couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that town, signing up to join the army the first time the recruiters had shown up to his school’s cafeteria when he was in the eleventh grade. He had no intention of going to college and wasting money his mother didn’t have, even if she insisted on going into debt to keep him out of the war overseas.

Sighing, Cloud’s fingers began to drift across the keyboard, his mind pouring words onto the page without thinking.

_He stares at her, raven hair that reaches her hips. He wishes that he could reach out and touch her, but the glass separates them, an invisible and permanent barrier that -_

Cloud stopped, then immediately slammed his pinky into the backspace, erasing the words from the screen in a rapid succession. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t mean to write any of that. This wasn’t what he wanted to write about at all.

Cloud groaned, rubbing the side of his temple with one hand. The distraction was thicker than usual, and he slammed the laptop’s screen closed, sliding it to his side and setting it atop his messenger bag. His mind had been in a thick fog ever since he’d been discharged from the army, and didn’t know what the fuck else to do to clear it. It was as if his mind was filled with smoke, choking the synapses of his brain that sparked any creativity. It was so bad that it gave him headaches, and just the thought of it pissed him off so badly that he shoved the laptop back into his bag.

Instead, he rummaged through it for a moment, pulling out an indigo-hued leather-bound journal that’s edges were frayed from years of use. As an October breeze tainted by the scents of cedar and pine swirled around him and stirred his hair, he pulled a ballpoint pen from the journal’s spine, clicking it against his thighs before he began to free write in a messy handwritten scrawl the first words that came to him, an exercise he had once read on the internet was supposed to help shake off the clutches of writer’s block.

_red eyes_

_black hair_

_pine trees_

_canadian geese_

_fuck_

“Cloud?”

Cloud looked up at the sound of a soft, angelic voice, one that was feminine but husky. He squinted against the streaks of sun that suddenly brightened behind the outline of the figure who stood on the winding pathway back at the edge of the grass.

She was standing there in a figure that was nothing but winding hills and valleys, wrapped tight in spandex leggings and a zip-up runner’s jacket that came to her chin and hugged every firm curve and peak of her body. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail on the top of her head, the dark rope falling into a black spill that reached the center of her back, her fringe pressed across her forehead with a stamp of sweat. She was breathing hard, taking a moment to lean forward over her knees, catching her breath. It was clear she had been running.

“Tifa,” he replied slowly, slamming the journal shut and sliding it to the side, nearly out of view. Cloud found his heart beginning to thrum a few beats faster at the sight of her, running into her less than twelve hours since he’d seen her last. And with her face flushed and slick with sweat from her workout, the shape of her body revealed in her tight ensemble, Cloud almost couldn’t take it. He didn’t remember her body looking anything like this when she had left Breckenridge.

She was moving toward him then, having caught her breath, her hands now at her hips. Cloud sat up a little straighter against the bench, a bizarre sense of panic latching onto his nerves. What did she want? Was she actually going to stop her workout to talk to him?

“What are you up to?” she asked him when she stopped less than a foot in front of him.

From his vantage point, Cloud could look up and see the scarlet sparkles that were embedded in her eyes, refractions of light that were dancing off of the water’s bright surface behind them. Last night, in the gritty dimness of the subway tunnels and the hazy yellow street lamps that lined Brooklyn’s streets, it had been difficult to get a good read on the intricacy of colors that lived in the formation of her irises. Now, though, illuminated by the bounce of sun against water, he could make out the mix of colors that formed them, and he realized he had never seen anything quite like it. He didn’t remember her eyes being this distinct, sanguine color when they were kids, they had always seemed more of a maroon, burgundy-brown, rather than the color of cherries.

“Mind if I sit down?” she breathed when he didn’t answer, and he cursed himself for staring at her silently like an idiot instead of answering her question. _Goddamnit_. He started to nod, but Tifa was already moving to plop down on the bench, pushing his messenger bag to the side.

“What’s this ?” she asked next, pointing to the small journal that rested at his hip. Cloud’s head began to pound. Three fucking questions in a row and he still hadn’t opened his mouth.

He swallowed, turning to her and picking the journal up in one hand. “Ah, nothing, it’s just… Just something I take notes in.” He could feel his face growing warm as he shoved the offending book into his bag, disgusted with his inability to maintain a sense of exterior control. “You jog out here every day? I thought you would have been in class.” Good. Change the fucking subject and let her talk about herself.

Tifa offered him a bright smile, one that was too cheerful and sunny, and it landed right on the center of his chest, causing him to press back into the bench as if she’d slammed her fist against his sternum. “No, I don’t have class on Fridays. I teach a class at Master Zangan’s dojo in Flatbush early on Friday mornings, so I usually go for my morning run right after, around this time.” Her hands had dropped to grip the bench at either side of her thighs, and it tightened her body into a sloping line beside him, pushing her full breasts out slightly with an arch of her back. Cloud felt like he might pass out.

“Fridays are my favorite, aside from maybe Sundays, when I usually do absolutely nothing.” She was still smiling at him.

Cloud didn’t understand how she could be so easygoing and fluid with her speech, her words to him flowing downstream from her lips like a carefully steered river. He found himself nodding, the back of his brain scrambled as he tried to formulate a response that didn’t sound completely stupid.

“What kind of class do you teach?” he managed to ask, and was silently triumphant that the question actually fit the conversation and didn’t manage to make him sound like a total idiot.

Tifa didn’t miss a beat, swinging one foot back and forth in front of her, and Cloud noticed she was wearing an extremely expensive pair of black and white New Balance sneakers that matched her spandex gear. How could anyone look so good just to get sweaty and messy? 

And why was he thinking about her being sweaty and messy?

“I teach a kickboxing class, mostly to yuppie, stay-at-home moms,” she responded with a laugh that was almost sarcastic. “They drop their kids at school and then come to the dojo for yoga or kickboxing.”

“I thought you were trained in Muay Thai,” Cloud said to her, remembering her quip to him last night. Without realizing it, as if drawn by some magnetic force, he turned his body slightly to face her on the bench, dropping his hands carefully in his lap and willing them to be still.

“I am,” Tifa chided, leaning in toward him with a laugh, “But I can teach just about anything. Master Zangan wants me to pick up more classes, especially for the after-school program, but… there just aren’t enough hours in the day.”

She sighed lightly and airily, the wind picking up the sound and carrying it away, and Cloud wished that he could chase after it and catch it. Instead, he just nodded, remaining silent.

“So this is how you spend your mornings?” Tifa went on, nodding at him and the messenger bag that held the evidence of his failures. “Hanging out in the park, writing in your diary?”

“It’s not a diary,” Cloud bit back defensively, and Tifa laughed again, her cheeks turning pink.

“I’m only teasing,” she apologized, but her tone was still playful and full of mirth. “I saw you scribbling something into it when I walked up, that’s all.”

Cloud shrugged, not wanting to say anything about it. She was sitting too close to him, making his knee want to buckle. He could smell the shampoo in her hair, could see the sweat that lined her brow from her run. He wanted to jump in the lake behind them.

“It’s nothing, really,” he finally answered when it became apparent that she was not going to turn away. “Just a place I keep notes to myself about important stuff.”

“Like to-do lists?” Tifa asked. “I’ve never known a guy to keep a to-do list.”

Cloud groaned, almost wincing. “No, that’s not what I - never mind.” He realized that his tone had grown frustrated, and he wanted to kick himself for not being able to keep it in check. Why was he such a fucking child?

Tifa picked up on it, too, because she leaned away from him and stretched. She dropped the subject entirely, rising to her feet as she pulled her arms behind her body. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

Cloud looked back up at her, finding her haloed again by the sun behind her, casting an ethereal glow that made her appear almost angelic. He swallowed hard, and he heard the sound, loud in his throat, crashing into the drumbeat of his heart below.

“Yeah, sure,” he finally responded, and his voice sounded foreign and stupid in his own ears. “I’ll still see you tonight, right?” He shook his head, realizing how messy that sounded. “I mean to walk you - “

“Of course, Cloud,” she responded, offering him her easy-going smile again, and Cloud was tempted to take out his phone and take a picture of her so he would have it forever and ever. She started to turn away, but then she stopped and looked back at him, quirking an eyebrow up. 

“Hey, you know you never texted me last night,” she accused, and her hands were at her hips again, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes narrowing. Cloud sat up straighter, unable to pull his stare from her. “So that I could save your number? Remember?” she quickly added.

Cloud let himself breathe again, suddenly aware that his right hand was going numb at his side where he had begun to grip the lip of the bench. “Right,” he said. “Sorry, it was late. I didn’t want to bother you. I’ll send you a text later.”

She smirked, offering him a tight nod. “Okay. Later, Cloud,” she bade him, turning away and heading back to the trail in a light jog. Cloud watched her hips sway sharply with each quick step, the round, perfectly apple-shaped muscles of her rear end bouncing behind her in spandex as her feet hit the ground.

“Later, Tifa,” he said mostly to himself, shaking out his hand to regain feeling and toss away the pinpricks, a hot droplet of sweat suddenly sliding down the side of his neck.

* * *

Cloud did see Tifa later.

He’d finally texted her around four-thirty that afternoon, not long after he’d gotten to work to start his shift. Knowing that Fridays were busy nights for the bar scene and that she too was probably already at work, he was surprised when she had answered immediately. He was also fucking shocked when he opened her contact to find that she’d dropped a blue heart emoji right next to her name.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hey. It’s Cloud._

**_Cloud:_ ** _The heart was a nice touch. Why blue?_

**_Tifa:_ ** _I’m glad you liked it! Blue is my favorite color_

**_Cloud:_ ** _It’s a nice color._

**_Tifa:_ ** _The best color. Can you meet me on Canal street at 12:30_

**_Cloud:_ ** _I could just come to the bar and meet you there._

**_Tifa:_ ** _No you dont have to go out of your way. I’ll meet you on canal, by the bakery right there in chinatown. It’s 24hrs if you ever get hungry._

**_Cloud:_ ** _Sweets at midnight?_

**_Tifa:_ ** _The best time for something sweet_

Cloud blushed at her last message, not quite sure why, before deadening the screen. Typing out his thoughts in text messages was always a more comfortable and effective manner of communication for him. He had time to plan out his thoughts and make sure they were translated correctly, he could even execute his tone with his words the way he wanted to. When he spoke, he always managed to read the conversations wrong, and if he didn’t sound like a complete idiot, he was either pissing someone off or offending them badly. Reading back on his text messages made him seem like he could transmit things the way that his brain intended to. 

Cloud’s job at the city’s energy plant was a fucking nightmare, a complete exercise in boredom and fritting away time. He sat at a glass-encased booth near the plant’s main entrance, tasked with only inspecting badges and clearing vehicles and employees through the gates at odd intervals through the evening. There was no excitement at all, and aside from the occasional email to check or crackle on his radio from another guard elsewhere in the building, he was stationary in ennui, left only with his own brain to ruminate through his thoughts, which were usually not very fucking pleasant.

Mercifully, supervisors did not really harass or visit him often, and Cloud would often spend the time reading from his e-book app on his phone, or typing the random brainstorming of ideas for his writing into his notes app, ideas that visited his head from time to time. They were the only things that kept Cloud from falling into the darker parts of his mind that threatened him, kept him out of the haze of misery and overthinking with productive distraction.

Cloud was several chapters into a new historical fantasy novel when midnight finally rolled around, and the guard on graveyard duty appeared to replace him. Cloud shared a wordless farewell with the grunt before he pulled his jacket on and slid his phone back into his pocket, leaving the plant to step into Manhattan’s crisp late-night breezes.

Fall was a pleasant time of year in the city on the East Coast, not too cold but with just the right level of bite to the wind to leave one wanting to bundle up. It reminded Cloud of his favorite season back in Breckenridge, which had been late summer, when the warmth of July and early August faded away as the winds of the Rockies started to thicken in the valleys of the towns below and bring on the chills of fall and the frosts of winter. It reminded Cloud of the last carefree days of solitude and freedom before school would start back up in September, brought back memories of his mother bringing him to the town’s carnival the last week of August for rackety, dangerous amusement rides and sweet confections and games with impossible odds. 

His hands were deep in his pockets as he approached Canal Street, a wide, granular thoroughfare set against tall, brick-red and limestone buildings that were at least two centuries old and rimmed with canopied awnings, advertising Chinatown’s dozens of jewelry and beauty shops. He thought back to the year that his mother had dropped him and Tifa off at the carnival, the summer before the accident, the last time they had really spent any time together before she ended up in the hospital in a coma and then was moving across the country. He remembered sharing funnel cake with her under the stars, playfully battling against her at wack-a-mole and hoops and water guns, Tifa always more competitive than anyone he knew. He remembered sitting at the top of the Ferris wheel with her when it paused for a moment, their car rocking gently in the breeze as she leaned too dangerously over the edge to glance out at the lavender peaks in the miles beyond. Cloud could still remember how warm his chest had felt as he’d watched her dark hair spill across her narrow shoulders that night, catching the moonlight with dazzling white streaks. He remembered being fourteen years old, his body tight and over-responsive and completely unsure of how to handle anything he was thinking and feeling.

He pushed those memories down, burying them somewhere alongside his recollections of the war and the battlefields overseas, another cache of thoughts he had been trying desperately to push below the surface so that his mind wouldn’t flare and send him into a new, paranoid panic. 

Even at this time of night, this part of Manhattan, like most of the borough, was still alive with activity, and Cloud found a lamppost to lean against while he waited for Tifa on the corner to avoid a collision with one of the many passersby on the street. The air was warmed with the sugary scents of the bakery to his left and the faint hint of smog in the air from the cars that pulsed by on the street, congestion not letting up even though it was late. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

It was almost 12:40 when he saw Tifa finally emerge down the block, coming in the direction of SoHo. She moved with a brisk walk, one elbow pinning a bright orange purse to her hip. As she drew in closer, Cloud drank in her appearance; she was wearing dark-wash skinny jeans and black ankle boots, a form-fitting bomber jacket that gave off a sheen under the streetlights coming to stop at her hips. Unlike that morning, her hair was loose and down, a curtain of black that framed her face and lined her shoulders in ribbons.

“Sorry I’m late,” she greeted him breathlessly as she approached, and Cloud could see the smatterings of kohl around her eyes that that made them appear wide and doeish, the shine of gloss on her lips that shimmered under the lamppost he was leaned against. She offered him a small, sheepish smile, and he felt something warm slide unsolicited inside of his chest. “I had to finish up my last table, and they were being a bit demanding.”

“It’s fine,” he answered, pushing away from the lamp post. He took a step forward, realizing that she was just a few inches shorter than him, and with how close they were suddenly standing, it wouldn’t take much for him to lean forward and dip down for their faces to be aligned.

Why was he thinking that?

_Fuck._

She nodded at him, staring at him as if she were waiting for him to say something more. Cloud couldn’t imagine why, and all it did was leave him frozen, staring back at her and the way her eyes shone under Manhattan’s light pollution. After a moment, she realized that their eyes were holding each other’s, and she looked away, blush staining her cheeks and leaving Cloud wondering what the hell was happening.

“The bakery?” Tifa suggested, pointing to the tiny shop behind them on the corner. “They have the best pastries.”

Pastries after midnight? Cloud tilted his head to the side, giving her a small shrug. “I’m not really into sweets. Besides, we’ll miss our train.”

“We have time,” Tifa insisted, and suddenly, he felt her gently pushing his bicep in the direction of the quaint shop that was lit by handcrafted, paper lanterns that were strung across the wide-open doorway. Cloud found himself falling into step as she nudged him along. He shrugged, liking the way that both of her hands were warm as they pressed firmly against his arm.

The bakery was small and tableless, more a walkway than a room, and even though there were only two other patrons inside, it was a narrow, tight fit. Tifa instantly fell in line behind the customers who were at the counter, Cloud coming up behind her, trying to maintain a respectful distance despite the lack of space. He watched the profile of her face as she leaned forward to peruse the menu overhead, her skin an even paler, porcelain white under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the shop. As she tapped her finger to her lips in thought, Cloud realized with a spark at the back of his brain how pouty and pink her mouth was.

Did her lips always look like that?

_Knock it the hell off._

“Oh, the lotus seed buns are my favorite,” Tifa remarked to Cloud. “I’ll get you one.”

His eyes widened slightly. “No, Tifa, you don’t have to -“ 

But she was already at the counter placing her order. “Two of the pink lotus seed buns, please. The ones with the kitty faces.”

Cloud smirked slightly, bringing his hand to the side of his face as he watched the attendant behind the counter pack the two fluffy pink pastries into a paper bag. He glanced down to see Tifa reaching into her purse, and instantly, a flare went off in Cloud’s head, forcing him to step forward and shoulder next to her at the counter.

“I got it,” he told her, withdrawing his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a crisp green bill. Her hand was still in her purse, and she looked up at him, her cherry lips turned down in a pout.

“Cloud! “

Tifa shoved past him, producing a five-dollar bill and thrusting it into the cashier’s hand before he could edge her out. Tifa’s burgundy stare was infiltrating the side of his face, and his skin there grew hot as she waited for her change, smiling triumphantly. She dropped a few coins into the tip jar as the cashier handed him the bag. He stared at it, until he realized that Tifa was looking up at him.

“Here you go,” he blustered, cursing inwardly, knowing his cheeks were probably the same hue as the damn cakes they had just bought. Tifa smiled up at him as she accepted it, and the way her pout widened and spread into a joyful smile sent his heart flopping around inside of his chest.

_Why the fuck is she so pretty?_

“Thanks, Tifa, but-“ 

“You can pay next time.” She stepped past him, making her way the few short steps to the exit, back onto Canal street.

_Next time?_

They walked in relative silence to the subway station, though Cloud more than once urged that they move quickly, since they had less than fifteen minutes to make their train. Tifa had pulled her pastry out of the bag and was eating it as they walked side by side, and Cloud couldn’t stop himself from glancing down at her through his peripheral, her cheeks full as she chewed the fluffy custard. Cloud opted to save his for later.

“These are so good,” she told him a few blocks later as she finished hers, and he realized that she was looking up at him, her eyes a glassy, warm scarlet red, like the low-glowing embers of a fireplace. The line of his eyes fell to the white slope of her neck, right where her silver teardrop earring dangled at the tender apex of her throat.

Cloud balled his hands up at his sides and looked away from her.

They made their way to the subway eventually, Manhattan’s grainy upper vortex fading away as they descended below ground. Cloud stayed just a few paces behind Tifa, not wanting to crowd her but also afraid to give her too much space, especially as the neighborhoods grew seedier and less populated during their walk. Inwardly, it appalled him that she made this trek almost every night alone.

That was going to come to an end if he had anything to do with it.

He shook his head clear of that thought as they reached the subway platform, just as the M train to Brooklyn was arriving. Tifa had her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and was rocking back on her heels as she waited for the train to come to a stop. Cloud found himself admiring her again where she stood in front of him, catching the way that dim yellow lighting shadowed her face but highlighted the high arcs of her cheekbones, the way it danced off of the shining gloss on her lips. He couldn’t stop thinking about how cute she was, standing there minding her own business.

She had always been cute, he remembered absently.

When the train halted, he was right behind Tifa as they slipped through the sliding doors, a hand hovering at the small of her back, wary of a repeat of last night’s antics. Being a Friday, there were more commuters on the train this time, but they easily found seats side by side on the bench near the corner of the car.

Tifa leaned back against her seat, facing her body towards his. Cloud tried to relax his stance, leaning back and spreading his knees a bit to get comfortable. The truth was, though, with her sitting so close to him, her narrow but well-formed torso facing him, her eyes in his direction, he was practically trembling with fear and anxiety. His fingers curled around the paper bag he held in hand, working to keep his hands from visibly shaking.

As the train jerked and moved, his eyes fell to her lips again, and he spotted a tiny pink flake in its corner. His eyes widened slightly, and impulsively, he lifted a hand to wipe it away. He caught himself midair, stopping and dropping his hand with his mouth suddenly wide open.

Tifa sat up a little from where she’d fallen back against the bench, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What is it?” she asked him, and the lilt in her voice did something to his insides, twisting them up into tight knots that made it difficult to breathe.

“Ahh… you have a little bit of that pink stuff on your lip.” He tapped the corner of his own mouth to demonstrate, and Tifa held his gaze, gently wiping the corner of her mouth with a bent knuckle and flinging the offending pink fluff away. She smiled at him as she did so.

Cloud was suddenly compelled to lean towards her and kiss that mouth, and he turned away the instant the thought crossed his mind, leaning forward over his knees.

Tifa sat up again, and Cloud could hear her shifting slightly in her seat. “So, Cloud, what about the village?” she started, and he realized she wasn’t staring at him, but rather at her hands in her lap, where her fingers twirled over and across each other. “Is it still the same? I haven’t been back since… well, since, you know.”

Cloud knew. He ran his palms over his thighs, pushing his anxiety down. “There’s really not much about Breckenridge that can change,” he answered her with a shrug. “I haven’t been there much over the last six years, though, other than to visit my mom in between tours.”

“What was the army like?” came her next question in a quick follow up, and it was the second time she’d asked him about the goddamn military. He winced slightly, pushing down a yellow feeling of panic at the thought of it.

“I’d much rather hear about you,” he changed the subject, and he could hear the strain in his voice, which made him even more annoyed, chiefly with himself. He didn’t want to sound snappish or short with her, but every time his mind ventured anywhere near thoughts of his time overseas, the same black fog began to descend on his mood.

He turned to her again, leveling his blue gaze on her face, as if to prompt her to respond. He saw her mouth twitch as it began to open as if she were preparing to protest, but something passed through the cabernet in her eyes, and she backed away from her line of questioning again. Instead, she brought up a dainty, graceful hand to brush a lock of dark silk behind her ear, Cloud watching her slender fingers and noting the pale periwinkle painted on her nails. 

“What do you want to know?” she asked him, just as the voice above announced the next stop. They were still several stops away from Park Slope.

_Everything,_ he thought foolishly. _Tell me everything about you._

Cloud leaned back away from his knees again, inhaling to push his thoughts to the far corner of his mind. “What’s it been like for you since you moved out here?” he asked as cavalierly as he possibly could, grateful for the train’s wheels scraping and bursting across the tracks, muffling the sound of his voice a little so it didn’t sound quite so shaky, the way it did in his own ears. 

Tifa looked back up at him then, and he could have sworn he saw a brief flicker of sadness pass through her eyes, though he couldn’t be sure, because it faded and passed as quickly as it had come.

“Oh, I didn’t like New York much at all when I first moved here,” she told him softly. “I mean, Breckenridge was small and kind of boring, but I liked it. I liked visiting the ski resort with my parents, even though I was too scared to actually ski. I liked the lakes in the summertime and how yellow the leaves on the aspens would turn in September. I still miss the smell of the air there. It was so… clean, compared to here.”

Her voice trailed away, and Cloud was completely entranced by it, wrapped up in her gentle melody. She turned away again, expelling a light sigh that made her chest rise and fall. Cloud was suddenly glad that she was wearing a jacket that had a bit of give to it and did not cling to the curves of her upper half the way her running jacket had that morning. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, especially with the way her breathing was suddenly punctuated by a sigh.

“Seems like your memory is a lot rosier than mine,” he mused, tipping his head to the side. “I don’t really remember any of that stuff.” 

Of course, he had to remember that Tifa had been one of the richest kids in the entire town, maybe in the entire county, and he had been borderline poor. Of course, she went to the goddamn ski resort all of the time and spent time at the lakes. Cloud, raised by a single mother, never had a chance to do any of that shit.

Tifa was smiling at him, but once again, she looked sad, as if she was thinking about something that was breaking her heart apart on the inside, right where she sat.

The train announced another stop downtown before crossing the river underground. Tifa stretched her legs out in front of her, staring down at her boots.

“I guess,” she conceded. “I just felt like New York swallowed me up whole when I moved here. My dad… he’s always been so busy with work, and without my mom, I just…” for a moment, her voice drifted away into the screams of the M train against the tracks. “…I felt so lost. It wasn’t until I met Aerith that I felt like I could settle in a little bit, that I wasn’t always so lonely and afraid.”

Cloud thought about their promise, and he started to ask her why she never called or emailed him, why she never once bothered to reach out to him. He bit back that impulse and flung it from his brain, realizing he was just as guilty for never once trying to reach out to her, too shy and timid to even try. “Aerith?” he repeated instead.

Tifa nodded, emitting a tiny yawn that showed off her small pink tongue and made him dizzy and red for a second before he looked down to avoid it. “My best friend. I met her about a year after I came to New York. She moved here from Oregon after her mother died, too.” Tifa glanced down at her hands, and Cloud took advantage of the opportunity to stare at her face. The sadness that had been behind her previous smile had been replaced with something far more contemplative. “We have a lot in common, even though most people say we are night and day. We’re roommates.”

“She sounds great,” Cloud commented lamely, not sure what else to say.

Tifa hummed, about to add something more when the voice above announced their arrival in Park Slope. The doors slid open, and Cloud and Tifa rose, the conversation dropped and forgotten as they quietly departed the train and the subway together.

Above ground, they walked the blocks quietly together toward Sterling Place, Tifa clutching her purse at her side, Cloud with one hand in his pocket and the other holding on to the pastry she’d bought him. The temperature had plummeted as it often did at night in New York around this time of year, and the wind blew through both of their hair, brushing through his golden spikes in waves and sending her dark threads up into the air with a twirl. He could feel the sting of the cold against his cheeks, knowing they were turning rosy and red.

Cloud wanted to ask her more about New York, about what her life had been like since she’d moved away from Colorado, but his tongue sat limp in his mouth, a dead weight in the center of his mandible. He glanced down at her as she walked beside him, and she appeared perfectly content as she clicked her way down the concrete, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. There was no reason for him to disturb her peacefulness with his own useless and prodding questions.

It wasn’t long before they reached their street, Tifa’s brownstone appearing into view in the distance ahead. As they drew near, Cloud realized that he could detect faint, feminine giggles drifting in their direction as they approached, interspersed by a gruff, familiar laugh.

“What on earth…?” Tifa suddenly broke out into her cute little jog again, the one that made her hips sway and made his eyes fall and land squarely on her ass. He followed her in a brisk pace with his gaze shamelessly targeted on her full, pear-shaped lower half, until he realized the air in front of the brownstone was permeated by a hazy, sickly-sweet smell that had him wrinkling his nose.

“Aerith!” Tifa chastised in a hiss, her hands rising immediately to her hips as she stopped at the gates in front of the brownstone. Cloud took position behind her, hearing more familiar peels of laughter erupt ahead. Stunned, his blue eyes widened in surprise when he found Zack crouched over the stone steps in front of Tifa’s brownstone, hovering dangerously close to a beautiful girl with chestnut brown hair, dressed in a long fuchsia sweater over powder blue leggings and brown ankle boots. She was the source of the high pitched giggling, and Cloud noticed her dark green eyes were bloodshot under the porch lamps of the brownstone.

So were Zack’s, he realized immediately.

“Tifa!” the girl exclaimed, reaching out her arms as if for an embrace, though she did not move from her seat on the step. Beside her, Zack dipped down from his crouching position and slid to sit on the step beside her, as if he had known her his entire fucking life. “I was waiting for you to get home! Oooh, is this Cloud?”

Tifa turned back to him, her claret eyes wide with embarrassment. Further stunned, Cloud didn’t know whether to grin or look away, but as his face grew hot, he managed to level his smuggest expression at Tifa, and he almost felt sorry for her at the way mortification erupted across her face.

She spun back around, and Cloud could see the tension grip her shoulders like the cold grip of a vice. “Aerith, what are you doing out here? Are you high?” that last question came out with a sneered whisper, and Zack guffawed, prompting Tifa to shoot her outraged glare on him, and he only laughed harder.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tifa,” Aerith shot back, still giggling, and though it was obvious she was stoned, glassy-eyed and giggling, she had enough control of herself to level her gaze with Tifa’s. “Nobody is around this time of night. Besides, you know I have plenty more if you and Cloud want some!”

Cloud had been staring at Zack the entire time, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Aerith yet. Tifa just groaned, and he glanced back at her, wondering how much really had changed since they’d separated a decade ago.

“This is Zack,” Aerith continued without missing a beat, not offering Tifa the opportunity to retaliate. “We met at that little Columbian coffee shop around the corner this morning. I was trying to get rid of an awful hangover, and Zack helped me pick the perfect frappuccino to stave it off. Just the right spike of caffeine to kill a headache.”

Zack took the opportunity to turn away from Aerith, glancing first at Tifa. “Nice to meet you. Aerith’s told me a lot about you already.” Cloud could sense that Tifa was relaxing slightly, though she still did not seem altogether pleased by her friend’s behavior.

“Aerith grows this stuff herself,” Zack trumpeted as if he’d just announced she had been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

“Aerith, you shouldn’t go telling that to everyone you meet,” Tifa cried, cradling her face in one hand.

Zack finally seemed to realize that his best friend was there, blinking through glassy blue eyes, their whites blurred with red. “Cloud, wait. What are you doing here? How do you know this fox?” he gestured openly to Tifa, who blushed, Aerith releasing a squealing giggle into the wind.

Cloud hated all of this. Tifa’s friend seemed like a real piece of work, a clone of Zack in female form, bright and vivacious and high-pitched, and too goddamn extroverted for his nerves. Zack was barely tolerable; he was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to handle two people whose social behavior was relentlessly encroaching without impunity.

“This is Tifa,” Cloud said, and he realized that Tifa had turned to face him. It had already been made obvious that Tifa had mentioned him to her roommate, but he had said nothing about her to Zack. He saw confusion, a question mark dance and flicker in the moonlight that highlighted the scarlet in her eyes, and suddenly he felt like an ass, like a complete dick and an idiot. God fucking damnit, was this awkward. “Uh, she and I grew up in Colorado together.”

“Wait, he didn’t tell you?” Aerith gushed, leaning in conspiratorially towards Zack, who let out a loud pop of a laugh in response. Aerith giggled again, her voice piercing the air with the ring of a bell, and Cloud saw that Tifa’s face had darkened several shades. Aerith was staring right at him next, though, her eyes bright jade gems that were sparkling with mischief. “Are you shy, Cloud?”

Nope, Cloud decided right then and there. He really did not like Tifa’s best fucking friend at all.

“I should get inside,” Tifa said then, breaking the awkward tension, and as she turned to him to say goodbye, Aerith was at her feet again.

“Wait!” she cried. “I invited Zack to Bigg’s party at Seventh Heaven tomorrow night, Tifa. You have to bring Cloud along. We can make it a double date!”

_Date?_ Cloud’s brain screamed.

“Oh, but we’re just friends,” Tifa responded, and instantly Cloud’s hopes were dashed like petals in the wind. Her eyes were downcast, and she was grinding the toe of her boot into the concrete as the words left her lips. Cloud decided he might as well just throw his heart on the ground under that boot and let her pulverize it away. “We aren’t dat-“

“Oh, Tifa, please!” Aerith threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You are so dense, sometimes I wonder if you’re the one who has been smoking pot!”

Cloud smirked, even though he was still feeling rejected and miffed at Tifa’s statement. Zack and Aerith had both broken out into fresh fits of laughter, Aerith lolling to one side to rest her head on Zack’s shoulder as she gasped for air and Zack slapped his knee.

Tifa turned back to Cloud, shaking her head in dismay, pleading with him with her eyes. He only offered her a shrug and a placating smirk.

“I don’t know about your friend,” he said softly, “But Zack is an idiot.” 

Tifa laughed finally, and Cloud felt a little better, seeing a smile on her face. 

Aerith had finally calmed down, and she was at her feet, wiping tears of joy from the corner of one eye. “Alright, boys, time for Tifa and I to get our beauty rest if you want to see us at our very best tomorrow night!” She blew a kiss at Zack, who was staring at her with puppy-eyes, the most disgusting sight Cloud had ever seen.

“Sweet dreams, Angel,” Zack crooned, rising from the stoop to hop down the remaining steps, joining Cloud at the sidewalk. Cloud glared at him when he fell in step beside him. “I’ll text you as soon as we get back to our apartment.”

_Jesus Christ_ , Cloud thought. _We live right across the fucking street!_

“I’ll be waiting,” Aerith replied gleefully. “Goodnight, Cloud! Okay, come on Tifa. Bedtime for us!”

Aerith turned and disappeared into the brownstone without another word, and Zack was at Cloud’s side, hands behind his head as he whistled blissfully to himself. Cloud rolled his eyes heavenward, wanting to shove Zack face-first into the sidewalk. But then he realized that Tifa was still on the steps, staring expectantly at him.

“Will you come to Seventh Heaven tomorrow?” she asked him quietly. “We’re having a party for our friend Biggs. He’s a teacher at the same school as Aerith, and he was just made vice principal.”

“That girl is a teacher?” Cloud couldn’t stop himself from quipping.

Tifa laughed then, a rich, real, bright laugh, one he hadn’t heard from her yet, and it was the most beautiful sound he’d heard her make yet. It was happy and carefree, and it reminded him of better times they’d shared together, years ago, against the backdrop of snow-capped mountains and bright yellow trees. It did something crazy to him to realize that he had produced that joyful sound from her throat.

At the same time, he wondered what it meant, if anything, that Tifa was now asking him to come to the party, after making it clear that they were only friends.

“Yeah,” he answered her finally. “I’ll come.”

Tifa gave him another genuine smile, then nodded. “Great. It will be a really small affair. Mainly just some local members of our AVALANCHE chapter and some teachers from the school.”

“AVALANCHE?” he repeated.

Tifa shook her head, backing up on the steps. “I’ll explain tomorrow. You should really get your puppy home.”

He turned to Zack, just as he throttled his elbow around Cloud’s throat, jostling him into a rough neck-hold. Cloud groaned, pulling away from him as Zack erupted into laughter on the sidewalk again.

“I’ll text you tomorrow, Cloud,” Tifa called from the steps with another giggle, before she disappeared through the open door that Aerith had passed through into the house. Cloud stared after her until she was gone, before he turned to Zack, who was grinning stupidly at him, hands in his pockets.

“So you weren’t going to tell me that you linked up with a childhood hottie?” Zack accused, but Cloud was already starting to cross the street in the direction of their apartment complex, forcing Zack to try to keep up with a jog. “You know, Aerith and I figured it out almost right away, you big dummy!” 

But Cloud just ignored him, ignored him all the way up to their apartment, ignored him until he slammed his bedroom door shut and finally breathed alone in silence, the pent up anxiety of the night spilling out of him in a rush as he let out a deep breath against the wall in his bedroom.

He couldn’t get Tifa off of his mind once that night, not even after he had fallen asleep.

* * *

Seventh Heaven was a popular, chic, but low-key club deep in SoHo, catering to a cosmopolitan crowd of college students and professors, artists, activists, and anti-establishment sorts. It was the unofficial home of the city’s local AVALANCHE chapter, an anti-war, community-based organization that had strong roots on local college campuses all across the entirety of the tri-state area.

AVALANCHE had been co-founded about twenty years ago on the campus of Hunter College by Barret Wallace and his friend, John Dyne, who had died during a protest that had turned violent several years ago. Barret, who owned and operated Seventh Heaven, was one of the most vocal and well known political activists on maybe the entire East Coast, infamous for staging protests and for organizing marches and sit-ins at City Hall and in front of the largest banks on Wall Street, whom he accused of using their “blood money” to enable perpetual war, death, and destruction overseas. His most nefarious stunt in memory had been the disruption of a presidential nominating convention in Washington, DC a little over ten years ago.

Tifa had met Barret and gotten involved with AVALANCHE during her undergraduate years at Columbia, when she met Jessie Raspberry, a theater major from a wealthy family in White Plains. Jessie, Tifa, and Aerith had struck up a friendship easily during their freshman year, all sharing in the radical belief that they had gone to college to make the world a better place. Aerith, who had studied botany and elementary education in undergrad, wanted to be a school teacher so that the next generation would grow to be better stewards of the earth than they were. Jessie wanted to use her art to highlight the injustices and oppression of the world around them. And Tifa studied psychology because she simply wanted to help people.

While Aerith was too capricious to get truly involved with AVALANCHE’s campus organizing activities, Tifa immediately signed up when she learned their cause, and soon found herself spending much of her free time volunteering at food drives or registering voters in low-income neighborhoods. Eventually, Jessie introduced her to her boyfriend Biggs, who was a schoolteacher at the same school as Aerith, and not long after that, she had met Barret.

Despite Barret Wallace’s hulking frame and crude manners, despite his predisposition for lofty, metaphor-laden speeches, he and Tifa hit it off immediately. She was intrigued by his passion and his commitment, and something about the roughness around his edges made him all the more endearing. She also soon learned that he was a committed adoptive father to the daughter his friend Dyne had left behind after his death. While his methods were not always appreciated by many, the government and law enforcement least of all, Barret was well-respected, and with good reason.

By the time Tifa was nearing the end of her sophomore year, she was picking up shifts at Seventh Heaven to earn cash of her own that wasn’t tied to her trust fund or her father’s credit card, both of which carried enormous, heavy strings. By her junior year, Barret had picked up on Tifa’s good sense with numbers and her business savvy, and it wasn’t long after that he’d hired her full time to not only bartend but help him manage and market the place. Ever since, Seventh Heaven’s business had doubled, and Tifa remained committed to AVALANCHE’s vision of working to help the common man, even if she did not always agree with their methods.

None of this, none of it all, had sat well with her father, and it had been a constant point of contention between them that he simply would not let go.

Tifa’s father, Brian Lockhart, an investment director and chief financial officer at Shinra Capitol, already had grand notions about her future that Tifa wanted no parts of at all. He had been the sole reason that she applied for the MBA program at Columbia, even though Barret had a full-time job for her secured at a local city hospital. Tifa wanted to work with the public, wanted to be a support rather than a leech on society. But her father had already determined that she was going to work on Wall Street. When she defied him during undergrad and chose psychology as a major rather than finance, he’d simply laughed off her rebellion, and he’d practically threatened her inheritance to get her to apply for Columbia’s business program.

By mid-afternoon, Tifa had wiped down the interior of Seventh Heaven and had arranged the menu for the evening after meeting with the kitchen staff. She’d placed the night’s placards outside to invite the public in, advertising the day’s special of ribeye sliders and fried calamari. When the live band arrived around six o’clock, a local, indie rock group from Queens, Tifa directed them to Seventh Heaven’s mini stage and helped them prepare for their set.

“Lookin’ good, girl,” Barret complimented her with a smile later that evening, as tables began to fill and drinks were pouring. Tifa was behind the bar, pouring shots for a trio who sat in front of her. Barret stood in front of her, tall and imposing in his dark gray muscle shirt and blacked out fatigue pants. His brown skin was creamy and smooth, spotlighted under the lamps overhead.

“Thanks, Barret. It looks good out here tonight. Folia is taking care of the tables out front. The weather is still nice enough for people to want to sit outdoors.”

Barret grunted, nodding as his hazel-brown eyes scanned the club’s front dining room. “Alright, Teef. Around eleven, I’m putting Wedge in charge up here for the rest of the night so you can join us on the second floor. We’ve got it all set up for Biggs’ party.”

Tifa nodded and smiled, watching as Barret turned away to keep his eye on the state of things as the night progressed. She continued serving drinks and bringing orders out from the kitchen to customers, placating their guests with her easy-going laugher, smiling and keeping the rest of the wait staff in check as she organized and directed everyone on the team through the evening’s excitement.

Around ten-thirty, Folia had shut down the outdoor patio and had come inside to relieve Tifa at the main bar inside. 

“Hey, Barret told me to take over. You heading upstairs?”

“I am,” Tifa nodded, sliding a final drink to a customer. “Private party.”

Before heading upstairs, she stopped in the staff restroom to adjust her appearance. She’d chosen that evening to dress in a close-fitting, jersey knit, sky-gray dress that hugged her curves the entire way down her body, right to where it stopped mid-thigh. She complemented it with dark gray thigh-highs and a matching knit shrug that kept her arms warm and stopped just below her breasts. She wore just a hint of makeup, swift lines of black around her eyes and pink gloss across her lips that made their already rosy tint glow. For her hair, she’d brushed it to one shoulder and clasped it into a side-swept ponytail.

It was an ordinary Saturday night, she tried to tell herself as she over-scrutinized her appearance. Bigg’s promotion and Cloud’s sudden appearance had nothing to do with why she was suddenly concerned with how she looked.

Ever since she and Cloud had reunited, she could admit to herself and no one else that something had come alive inside of her. Maybe it was sparked by the way he had wrestled the subway train’s doors open with his bare hands, effectively saving her life. Perhaps it was ignited by the press of his body against hers on the train car’s floor that night. Maybe it was set aflame by the way he’d casually offered to walk her home from work each night. Or, perhaps, it had something to do with the way he’d pouted at her when she’d refused to let him pay for their cakes at the bakery.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was so attractive, all sparkling eyes that shone with hues of blue and green, ruffled blond hair that sparkled like glass under light, lean muscle mass toned and defined under dark layers of clothing that were too perfectly suited to his form. 

Tifa had dated a few guys in her past, a few of them she had even liked enough to kiss and let them pet her heavily. But none of them sent white-hot sparks of excitement right between her thighs the way that Cloud Strife inspired just by the way he looked at her.

A childhood friend that Tifa once felt a familiar warmth towards, like home, now felt like the inside of a lightning bolt, all heat and electricity and thrill, all completely forbidden.

Tifa was ashamed of herself when she realized that even thinking about him was making her wet.

Still, something about him seemed far away, distant and untouchable. His tone with her was usually reserved and casual, sometimes smug and sometimes sarcastic or even caustic. There was nothing about him that she had seen yet that reminded her of the shy, sweet boy she had sat on park benches next to or occasionally cut gym glass with because they both hated it. She didn’t see any signs of the warmth that lived in the boy who promised her he’d be there for her if New York ever got too scary for her. She wondered if he even remembered that. 

Not likely, she knew. No, this Cloud was all cool, stern precision and calculated responses, a sturdy but transparent guard erected around him that refused to let her in. He’d been overseas in the war, had probably seen men die and probably killed a few himself. Why would he be concerned about or even recall the silly wishes of a thirteen-year-old girl?

And of course, she’d never called after she left New York, so why did she think that their stupid promise meant anything?

When she made her way upstairs to the private dining room, Aerith was already there, dressed in a knee-length, off the shoulder, dark pink dress that was ruched along the sides. The party was more of a get-together, just a few tables lightly packed with several of her and Bigg’s colleagues from PS 748, the public school where they both worked. Tifa spotted Barret standing over a huddled group of teachers, slamming his fist into his open hand, and she wondered what political diatribe he was yammering away at them.

As soon as Aerith’s forest-green eyes spotted her, they lit up, and she waved her over with a flourish.

“Tifa!” Aerith cried as Tifa approached, and she admired the way that Aerith had set to decorating the dining room in pink and yellow floral wreaths and centerpieces that were aglow under the dark purple lighting overhead. “Jessie is bringing him up soon. Zack and Cloud should be here at any moment, too!”

Tifa’s heart did a light flip at that, and she almost had the chance to respond, but Aerith’s eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder, suddenly distracted. 

“Zack!”

Tifa turned, just as Aerith jogged across the room. She found Zack standing by the door, grinning in a sky blue blazer and white shirt over black pants as Aerith made her way to him. He opened his arms to greet her, and she fell into them easily, gifting him with a kiss against his cheek. Tifa tried to remember that they had just met each other yesterday.

Next to him, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, was Cloud.

He was dressed in a simple navy blue button-up and slate-gray jeans, black hiking boots completing his look. His hair was glossy but mussed, gleaming an aurulent gold under the colorful lights overhead, and it looked as if he had purposefully combed his hair to look messy and sloppy around his face.

Around his beautiful face.

Tifa found that he was growing more and more handsome the longer she looked at him over the course of the last few days. Ever since she had collapsed on top of him on Thursday and they had shared Chinese pastries on Friday, she felt a deep, longing sense of warmth develop toward him that was ignited any time her eyes fell on his face. He was unbearably handsome, survived by a boyish and pale face with splotchy pink undertones and long dark lashes that she imagined herself kissing lightly. Speaking of kissing, his lips were replete and blood-rushed, and she had brought herself to blushing more than once when she realized she was staring at them.

The best thing, Tifa had realized, was to keep her eyes off of him completely.

Yet now as he stood there next to his much taller, much broader friend, who was loud and affable and imposing alongside Aerith, she found that she couldn’t tear eyes away from him. He was aglow under the filters of the violet lighting overhead, and the shine that it brought out in the deep blue depths of his eyes sent her heart into a sudden rise. She tried to remember if he had looked this good when they were kids, but at that moment, even her memories were irrelevant. 

His eyes lifted and caught hers, and Tifa nearly fainted.

Aerith and Zack were crossing the room towards her, arm in arm, both of them already laughing as if they were stoned again. Cloud scratched his head and followed behind them, and Tifa was dumbfounded when they both ignored her and made their way to the dance floor, falling into an easy rhythm against the music with their bodies close to one another.

“Hey.”

Tifa turned, finding Cloud standing beside her. He was offering her a shy, timid smile, his eyes a shadowed blue in the dimness of the room. His hair was almost platinum under the neon glow of the lights overhead.

“Hey,” Tifa greeted, feeling her throat grow warm. “I’m glad that you came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cloud nodded, glancing over at where Aerith and Zack were pressed against each other on the dance floor. “He wouldn’t stop talking about her, all day today. Since the moment he woke up. I was gonna tell you to warn your friend that he’s a little bit of a player, but it seems like he might be changing his ways.”

Tifa grinned, turning to him in mock surprise. “Ooh, isn’t that going against the bro code a bit?” 

He shrugged casually as if he couldn’t give less than a fuck.

“I’m not too worried about her,” Tifa laughed, watching as Aerith twirled in front of Zack and then threw her head back with laughter. “She’ll rip his balls off if he even tries his luck with her.”

“Yikes,” Cloud gibed back. “And how ‘bout you? Do you resort to that kind of violence if a guy crosses you?”

Tifa blushed, bringing a hand up to her cheek and shielding her eyes from his a little. “I’d probably smash them,” she razzed back, and her smile brightened at the way that he chuckled and tossed his head to the side.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he snarked, and Tifa’s cheek darkened at his words, but before she could formulate a response, he was stepping closer to her, and the blackcurrant and birch of his cologne were snagged suddenly onto her senses. “Want to get a drink?”

Tifa inhaled and nodded, swimming suddenly in his entire presence, feeling like he was folding around her like a carefully tucked linen across a bed. They approached the open bar, where Gwen was working the private party for the night. Tifa found it odd to be on the other side of the counter, even odder to be served by her colleague. 

“What’ll it be, Teef?” Gwen asked, brushing short dark hair behind her ear. Tifa noticed that even though she’d addressed her, Gwen’s eyes were lingering on Cloud, scanning him up and down with a swift volley of ebony eyes. Tifa felt something green rim the borders around her, something a little like jealousy or maybe possession.

“I’ll have a Cosmopolitan,” Tifa answered, glancing over at Cloud, who was leaning back on one foot next to her, a hand in his pocket. 

“I’ll have the same,” he added, and he was looking right at her, even though he’d technically responded to Gwen. “You’re the expert on this stuff, aren’t you?”

Gwen scoffed, turning away from them to make the drinks, and Tifa lowered her face away from Cloud’s penetrating gaze, staring down instead at her hands where they’d come to rest atop the bar. She was smiling, but her cheeks were bright red again, and she hoped that Cloud couldn’t see their color under the spotlights.

—————— 

Cloud could definitely see the color of Tifa’s cheeks under the lights of Seventh Heaven’s private dining room. They were a blend of red and pink, the full bloom of a rose beneath purple and magenta neon fluorescence. She was avoiding his eyes, but he could care less, intent to stare at her forever.

She was so, so, pretty. 

How could anyone be so perfectly made?

The brown-skinned woman with the half-shaved bob of hair returned with their drinks, plopping them in front of them. Tifa thanked her, but Cloud could hardly be assed to do so, he was too busy admiring the way that Tifa’s long silver earring tapped against the corner of her throat under her ear when she leaned forward.

And the fucking dress. And the goddamn stockings. Everything wrapped her body like a glove, tight and snug in all of the right places, and it was a federal fucking trial for him to keep his eyes from wandering up and down every peak and valley of her shape. It was worse than the goddamn spandex.

They both took their red drinks and turned away from the bar, sipping quietly in silence as Tifa led him toward a circular table that was reserved in the front. On the dance floor, Cloud could see that Zack was still dancing with Aerith, the only couple on the floor, and both of them moved completely out of rhythm to the music that was playing. They looked fucking ridiculous, but hearing Tifa laugh as she fell into a chair warmed him, and he couldn’t avoid smiling as he sank into the seat next to her.

“Do you like the drink?” Tifa asked him, and when she turned to him, he was caught by the dark rim of kohl around her eyes that made them doe-eyed, the way he might imagine them to look if she was pinned beneath him with his cock about to plunge inside of her. He was reeled in by the pout of her lips as they left her glass, red and full the way they might look wrapped around his finger or his dick. She opened them slightly as she pulled the glass away, and Cloud saw her pink tongue again, immediately wondering if this was what she looked like when she was about to come. 

_Get it together_ , he screamed at himself.

He shifted slightly in his seat, the tightness in his pants uncomfortable. He raised his glass and tipped it to her, and purposefully let his eyes scan her from crown to hip in her seat, drinking her in with all of the obviousness he could muster.

“Beautiful,” he granted, before bringing the cherry-red drink to his lips to drink again, and he smirked inwardly when Tifa turned away slightly and bit her bottom lip, the tops of her cheeks matching their drinks.

Cloud couldn’t rally much conversation for a while after that, and it was too loud to talk with the music blaring overhead anyway. Aerith and Zack continued to dance, both of them insatiable. Cloud couldn’t understand it at all.

A short time later, Tifa’s manager, Barret Wallace, entered the dining room, his tall brown frame filling the entire center of the doorway. Under the gleam of the spotlights overhead, Cloud noticed the metallic prosthetic arm that replaced his right hand. He could see twin scars overlap his right eye, set into a handsome but pinched face, a face that looked like it was constantly frowning. The depths of the scars were hidden by black shades, which the man was wearing indoors.

“The man of the hour is here, kids!” Barret thundered, and the room grew quiet as Barret waved his hand at the DJ who was behind a booth in the corner. “Turn that shit off. Jessie is bringing him up now. “Soon as he walks through that door, I wanna hear y’all scream like it’s Y2K out this bitch!”

There were some faint whoops and claps, but the noise died down as the lights dimmed, and soon, the room was quiet. Cloud waited in the darkness, hearing Tifa breathe quietly beside him. He wondered if that’s what she might sound like when she passed out next to him after he fucked her through half of the night.

Just as that thought was fleeting, the neon lights brightened again, highlighting the slim statures of a couple in the doorway. The room, packed only with a handful of friends and colleagues, erupted to life.

“Biggs!” 

“Surprise!”

“Congratulations!”

Tifa was at her feet, clapping and smiling. Aerith and Zack had joined them at the table, Zack coming to stand next to Cloud, but Aerith ran off to join the couple at the door.

Biggs, tall and well built, seemed genuinely surprised by the joyous greeting he received. His hair was dark and full, cut into a mussed-up pompadour that spilled slightly around the top of his head. At his side was a petite, smirking woman, pretty with warm brown eyes and dark auburn hair that was styled into waves around her face.

“The man of the hour,” Barret announced, holding a mug of beer up and above the crowd. “Congratulations, son of a bitch. Now, get that curriculum changed so our kids know that climate change is real.”

Biggs was grinning from ear to ear, and even though Cloud had never met him, he felt a small sense of pride swell inside of him for some reason at the man’s accomplishment.

“Will do,” Biggs agreed, just as Aerith threw her arms around his neck, the girl at his side laughing happily. “You guys… I can’t believe you did this for me. Thanks.”

Cloud settled back into his seat as they entered the room and the music came back on. Tifa was still at her feet, waiting for Biggs and the girl named Jessie to arrive at the table that they sat at. After hugs were exchanged, Tifa and Aerith introduced Zack and Cloud to Biggs and Jessie, and eventually, they were joined by Barret, who sat at the head of their table as they ate and laughed.

Cloud sat mostly silently as the group talked, drinking in the stories of Tifa’s friends. Biggs was a fifth-grade teacher at the same school Aerith taught at, and had just recently been promoted to administration after earning his master’s degree from NYU. He also volunteered with AVALANCHE as a community organizer, and Barret considered him his right hand. He ran a successful after school club for young boys in Brooklyn, where they could shoot hoops or get help with their homework. A skilled mechanic, he fixed the cars and bikes of local residents for free, and on weekends he taught computer classes to adults who had never had the opportunity to learn.

He was kind of stupidly amazing, Cloud thought without feeling jealous at all. Maybe it was because Biggs was so humble, shaking his head and begging his friends to stop singing his praises.

Jessie, his girlfriend, was another matter altogether. While Biggs was reserved and still, Jessie fluttered around the table like a manic butterfly, not only hyping her boyfriend’s accomplishments but pestering everyone along the way and even extolling her current work as an actress in an off-broadway show. When she came to Tifa, she stopped and wrapped her long, slender arms around her.

“Oh, he’s cute, Tifa,” Jessie remarked, staring right at him, and Cloud flinched, feeling her honey-brown eyes unwrapping him and stripping him out of all of his clothing. “Aerith told me that you’d scored, but I hadn’t expected anyone so pretty, especially not after that musclehead you were with before. What was his name, again? Lude?”

“Rude,” Tifa corrected hotly under her breath, and Cloud could only stare at her, wondering how long ago it was that Tifa had had a boyfriend, wondering how many boyfriends she’d had, and how many if any of them had been inside of her the way he’d dreamt of being the last two fucking nights.

_Fuck_.

“Right,” Jessie barked out a laugh, then slid away from them both. “Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it, Teef.” She was staring at him again, but her line of sight had dropped to his lap. “Those hips tell me he’ll be good.”

“Jessie!” Tifa cried, cheeks flaring red, but Jessie only continued to laugh, moving around the table to Biggs again and taking a seat in his lap.

Cloud glanced at Tifa, finding her shaking her head, her face in her palms. She looked up at him after a moment, her cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry about that. She’s really ridiculous.”

“Worse than Aerith?”

“Ugh. Aerith is practically a saint by comparison.”

Food and drinks were passed around, and the conversation was dominated by Barret, Jessie, and eventually, Zack, who fell into their cadre with ease. At a point, Biggs got up to visit some of the other tables where friends from his school sat. Cloud was perfectly content to sit quietly next to Tifa, listening as she was roped into Barret’s stories about how she volunteered with AVALANCHE and how good she was with the books.

The more Cloud learned about her since she’d been in New York, the more he was impressed with her.

Eventually, it grew late, and most of Bigg’s other friends had departed, leaving only the seven of them at the main table. The DJ had lowered the music to a fading hum in the background. Jessie and Aerith were both quite drunk, and Cloud turned to his right to find that Aerith was sitting in Zack’s lap, his sky-blue eyes as wide as a hound’s as his palm splayed around the fullness of her hip.

Noticing this display at the exact same moment, Barret slammed his good fist on the table, disrupting champagne flutes and forks with a clatter. “Get a goddamn room!”

Aerith threw her head back in laughter, and Cloud could see the smug satisfaction on Zack’s face, blurred by booze. He’d known this girl for less than forty-eight hours and he was already completely smitten, struck by cupid’s arrow or some other silly bullshit.

“Oh, let them be, Barret,” Jessie tittered, her voice slurred somewhat. “Don’t be such a Grinch. They are adorable together, aren’t they, Biggs?” She ran her long, manicured fingers up and down Bigg’s forearm, and Cloud saw him shift in his seat uncomfortably, his lips spreading into a nervous smile.

“Zack is the best thing that’s happened to me in the entirety of this gods-awful year,” Aerith announced to the room before Biggs could respond, her voice husked by the tantalization of the cocktails she’d been sipping since they’d arrived. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Zack concurred, grinning, both hands around her hips now.

“Besides,” Jessie was now leaning over Bigg’s lap across the table, completely disregarding his personal space as her eyes glittered with mischief under the neon lights. “If Tifa wasn’t such a prude, I’m sure she’d be sitting in Cloud’s lap right now.”

Cloud’s eyes widened, half with surprise and half with a stab of anger at Jessie’s choice of words, even if they were said in jest. He found them kind of mean to be coming from someone who was a friend.

Tifa was instantly defending herself, though. “I am not a prude!” She declared, sitting up straight in her chair. “Cloud and I are just friends.”

This shit again. 

Cloud picked up his drink, staring into it and avoiding everyone’s eyes as he drank.

Jessie instantly began to laugh, brightly and loudly, and soon, she was pounding her fist on the table as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Aerith and Zack joined in, and soon, so did even Barret.

“Friends?” Jessie repeated. “Give me a fucking break. I’ve seen you guys eye-fucking each other all night. There’s no way.”

“Tifa and Cloud have known each other since they were little,” Aerith announced to the air, and Cloud saw Tifa cover her face with one hand in his peripheral. “You _know_ they’ve wanted each other for their entire lives. This is why I just love New York! Only in a magical city like this can fairy tale romances come true!”

“I wouldn’t go that fuckin’ far,” Barret grumbled, sipping his beer.

To Cloud’s ever-escalating annoyance, Zack decided to weigh in on the conversation. “I am of the opinion,” he stated, half of his face shadowed by the waves of Aerith’s hair, “That men and women can never be friends.”

“I concur,” Jessie agreed, lifting her glass into the air, even though it was empty. Biggs was simply shaking his head.

“And why is that?” Tifa demanded, her face bright red. Cloud wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed or because she was angry, but either way, it was hot. Adorable and hot.

“Because of the sex,” Zack explained plainly, and Aerith made a scandalous sound before breaking out into tittering laughter. “Sex always gets in the way, people. It’s inevitable.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Tifa persisted, leaning over the table. Cloud realized that she was probably also so flushed because she was a little drunk. “We don’t want to have sex!”

God, he wanted this conversation to be over.

Jessie broke out into rich, colorful laughter again. Barret had set his beer down and crossed his arms over his expansive chest, watching all of them, much younger than he, with great amusement.

“Please, Tifa. Nice try, but we know you better than that.” Jessie’s voice was dark and teasing and Cloud really wanted to know what the fuck she was getting at. “I give it a week before he doesn’t have you bent over the bar downstairs. What do you guys think?”

“Three days,” Zack added immediately, and Cloud almost punched him.

“Aw, give them a little credit, guys,” Aerith chimed in unhelpfully. “I say they last a month.”

_Jesus Fucking Christ._

“You guys are all stupid,” Tifa protested, her eyes maroon with fury. “Cloud and I are just friends. We’ve been friends since we were kids. It isn’t like that.”

_That isn’t exactly true_ , he thought, but he stayed silent, and nodded at her side as if in agreement, not wanting to defy her in front of her friends. _And don’t I get a say in this?_

“Of course we’re friends,” he confirmed out loud finally.

The laughter rang out again, and only Biggs looked sympathetic to their plight as Jessie slammed the table so hard her empty glass spun and fell over. Barret was guffawing, holding his belly. Zack nearly lost his hold on Aerith and almost dropped her to the floor.

“Alright, fine, if you insist,” Jessie was relentless, and Cloud was now absolutely sure that he could not stand her. “I’m team Men and Women Can’t be Friends. Who’s with me?” 

Aerith and Zack both raised their hands, Aerith giggling an apology when Tifa shot her a dirty look. After a moment, Barret let out a slow, deep chuckle and lifted his good fist as well.

Jessie shot a look at Biggs, who was looking down into his drink. “Really, Biggs?” she chided.

He only shrugged, looking up at her with a wink. “Sorry, babe. But I do happen to believe that men and women can be friends. I think you guys are just giving them a hard time.”

Jessie blew a long raspberry between her lips before turning away, ignoring him. “Well, you’re outnumbered anyway. The ’Can’t’ camp has won.” She looked at Cloud and Tifa then, her brown eyes lasers that burned his flesh away. “We’ll see how long you can last. I’m putting 100 bucks on it that you don’t.”

“One-fifty!” Aerith snickered.

“Two hundred!” Zack added, and Cloud kicked him under the table.

“Ow!”

“I ain’t got that kind of money,” Barret said, rising to his feet. He leveled a discerning look at Tifa, almost fatherly with a slight edge of concern. “I’m heading downstairs to make sure everything is cleaned up so I can send the rest of the staff home. Y’all kids stay out of trouble.”

As Barret left, Cloud realized that Tifa was stiff and tight with tension, her face still veiled in anger and embarrassment, her crimson eyes still alight with rage. Her friends were morons, he decided. And so was his friend. Zack was the biggest idiot of them all.

As the group erupted into laughter again, Cloud offered Tifa a smile, and when she shook her head and smiled back, the stiff pain in his lap flared again.

He hated this.

_Fuck._


	2. I Never Felt My Heart Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! We finally have an update. This chapter is not as stupidly long as the first, but it's long enough.
> 
> Special thanks to spaceOdementia for betaing as always. And thank you to everyone for your comments on the first chapter, they were so thoughtful and I'm so grateful 💜
> 
> The title of this chapter also comes from The Midnight song _Deep Blue_ , as referenced in Chapter One.
> 
> Also, there is a tiny easter egg from _Sleepless In Seattle_ (1993) in this chapter. Can you find it?
> 
> Enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter Two 

I Never Felt My Heart Like This

Cloud sat in a rickety folding chair on the small balcony of the apartment he shared with Zack, watching golden and sierra-red leaves blow and flutter in the wind as they drifted from the branches of the trees that lined Sterling Place and fell to the concrete below. The wind howled by with a gentle breeze against the overcast October sky, and Cloud shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, turning away from his laptop’s screen where it stared back at him once again with a blank white facade.

He sighed, still feeling a dull ache at the sides of his skull from all of last night’s drinking. Their carousing had carried on late into the night, ending with both Jessie and Aerith needing to be practically carried out by Biggs and Zack, who wasn’t in a much better state himself. Somehow, with Barret and Biggs the soberest out of all of them and directing their pack, they’d managed to secure cabs sometime after three o’clock that morning and made it home safe back to Brooklyn, Cloud and Zack stumbling into their fifth-floor apartment and both passing out still wearing their clothing, Cloud making it to his bed while Zack only got as far as the couch.

Drinking the rest of the night away had been the only way to put up with the merciless teasing of Tifa’s friends, the only way that he could get through the uncomfortable social expectations of the night, and the only way he could tolerate sitting so close next to Tifa, who smelled like fruit and cupcakes and who looked like every fantasy he could remember having since his early adolescence, her hair dark and long and shimmering under the neon lighting overhead, her lips perfectly full and glossy, her eyes a dark scarlet red, her body a winding road of endless curves. The problem was, though, that the more he drank, the more he’d wanted her, and eventually he had to get up and spend nearly ten minutes in the men’s room, splashing cold water into his face and staring at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror before Biggs came in and found him with his hands wrapped around the rim of the sink.

“Hey, man,” the taller man had greeted him, nodding his head at him with concern. “You alright, in here? Tifa was looking for you.”

_Fuuuuuck_. That had been the last thing he’d wanted to hear.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Think I had a few too many shots. I’m good.”

The evening had ended on a blur, and at present, Cloud couldn’t remember much of it, aside from the way that Aerith had giggled incessantly through the night, the way that Jessie’s voice was shrill in the air, the way that Zack at one point began to regale the group with stories about the war that made Cloud hold his head in his hands, shaking it and looking away while the others drank and asked questions and screamed and made his ears bleed.

All the while, Tifa sat next to him, occasionally entering the conversation, her voice slurred with drink, at times turning her pretty face to him and offering him a smile, her eyes misted over with alcohol.

Now, though, it was the middle of Sunday afternoon, and Cloud was sitting on the balcony with his laptop, trying to get words on the page and working to clear his head. He and Zack had both risen well after one o’clock that afternoon, and Zack was up and texting with Aerith before he had even brushed his teeth. Within minutes, Zack was swallowing a handful of painkillers, tossed back with orange juice that he drank straight from the carton. Moments later, he announced that he was going to spend the afternoon with Aerith, which was no big fucking surprise.

“She’s going to show me the garden at her mom’s house in Queens,” he’d told Cloud, his black hair a tangled mess around his head from sleeping halfway off of the couch. “She’s got pot, if you want to come. Best thing to cure a hangover.”

Cloud, whose head was pounding, just waved him off, and Zack laughed as he made his way to the bathroom to shower.

Even with a shower and painkillers now in his own bloodstream, Cloud could still feel the dull pulse of the previous night’s abuse wreaking havoc on his body, could still feel the side effects that a terrible, drunken sleep had left on him, disabling his concentration and his creativity as he sat with the laptop on the small iron table beside him, its cursor blinking at him with a slow, mocking beat. He stared across the street, wondering if Tifa was home, and wondering what she might be doing at that very moment.

Was she as hungover as he was? She had to be, and even though she wasn’t as messy as Aerith and Jessie had been by the end of the night, she was just as giggly and red in the face, slurring her way through every conversation, and more than once had leaned against him for stability, using his body to keep her own from crashing to the floor as they made their way outside to hail the taxis. Her hands had bled fire into his flesh, burning right through his clothing and charring his bones.

He wondered if she was laying in bed, or maybe on the couch, trying to soothe her headache away. How did girls deal with hangovers, anyway? Cloud imagined they might press a damp rag to their foreheads while drinking herbal tea or some shit. Was Tifa drinking tea? He pictured her lips parting as she brought a steaming mug between them, her lashes meeting as her eyes closed in contentedness. 

Cloud shook his head. No, knowing Tifa, she probably opted to sweat the alcohol out of her body, killing the hangover with exertion. He imagined her running through Prospect Park again in her tight spandex, her ponytail swishing against her hips, her skin lined with a sheen of perspiration. He shook his head at the thought, shifting in his seat, feeling heat race to his lap at his thoughts.

_Goddamnit._

He turned back to the laptop, shifting Tifa from his mind again and staring at the screen. Instead of typing, he slid his fingers over the trackpad and minimized the screen, navigating to a folder on his desktop and opening an old draft he had penned while overseas. He didn’t have a computer while he was deployed, but he’d had plenty of notebooks and writing materials and had drafted dozens of short pieces, stream of consciousness ramblings and free-writes that now, reflectively, made no sense and had no cohesiveness or context. When he’d returned to the States, though, the first thing he had bought with his salary was a new laptop, and he’d spent several days typing the drafts up, mostly on his flights to Colorado to visit his mom and then on the way to New York where he and Zack staked their claim on Brooklyn.

Cloud sighed after reading the file, then copied it and pasted it on the blank draft. From there, he began to type aimlessly, words flowing from the taps of his fingers without any thought, an incoherent drabble. As he typed, the pulsing in his head transformed from the dull bleat of the remnants of booze in his blood to the violent drumming of his memories, ugly visions from the war overseas that he’d wished he could leave forgotten, but that his fingers across the keyboard were digging up and dumping onto the screen as if they were vomiting.

After a long while, Cloud stopped typing, then backed away from the laptop as if suddenly shocked by it, and exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath. He glared at the screen, seeing the jumble of words, lines scrolled across the document, unbroken by punctuation or indentation. The words ran together, not making any sense. Abruptly, he slammed the laptop shut and sat back, crossing his feet in front of him and thinking maybe he should have just gone and gotten high with Zack and Aerith.

_Shit_.

Just as he was closing his eyes against his painful thoughts, swirling in his mind and dragging him back into parts of the past he’d been trying for weeks to ignore, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Quirking an eyebrow, Cloud withdrew it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

_**Tifa:** Heya _

Instantly, his heart began to pick up speed in his chest at the sight of her name, at the sight of that cute little blue heart that she’d left next to it. _Heya_. He remembered her always using that greeting when they were kids, the way it rolled off her tongue with a candied sweetness that made his pulse skip a beat. It had been cute way back then, but now, as adults, it was endearing in a way that made him feel comfortably warm.

He probably stared at her text for far too long before he remembered himself and opened the screen, watching the cursor blink a few times before his thumbs began to skirt across the display.

_**Cloud:** Hey. _

She was responding immediately, gray dots dancing on the screen as if she had been staring at her display waiting for his response. The thought of her sitting in her apartment, maybe curled up on her couch in sweats, or better yet, yoga pants that hugged the curves of her ass, made him slide lower in his seat, his neck flaring.

_**Tifa:** Did you make it up to your apartment ok last night? Zack fell over in the middle of the street and Aerith couldn’t stop laughing, but she was worried this morning _

_**Cloud:** He’s fine. She and Zack have been together all day. They probably passed out together in a garden of weed somewhere. _

_**Tifa:** LOL. Like in the Wizard of Oz? Remember, when they all passed out in the poppy field? _

_**Cloud:** Yeah. Still can’t believe they put that in a kid’s movie. That whole story was kinda fucked up when you think about it. _

_**Tifa:** I used to love that movie. Remember when our moms got drunk while we were watching that one time?  _

_**Cloud:** How could I forget? They were so loud whenever they got together. _

_**Tifa:** I wouldn’t mind watching it again, it’s been a while _

Cloud was grinning now, fully leaned back in his chair, the wind tossing his hair gently with the chill in its breeze, holding the phone close to his face as he typed back and forth with Tifa. He felt the heat creep up and tighten its hold on him at the way their conversation flowed, at the way her words were kicking up memories that lived between them that he had long ago forgotten, buried somewhere sacred and protected. He stared at her last text, half a mind to check if _The Wizard of Oz_ was on Netflix, before her next text came through, interrupting the trail of their conversation.

_**Tifa:** How about you? Did you sleep okay? _

_Shit_. Was she asking him how he slept? Had she been thinking about him sleeping? Did she think about him in bed?

_Shit Shit Shit._

_**Cloud:** My head is killing me. I don’t really remember falling asleep. How about you. Did you get your beauty rest? _

His face was hot when he pressed send, and he waited for the dots to appear. His heart started to pound when they didn’t, and she took longer to respond this time before they finally did.

He wondered what she was thinking when she stared at her screen. Was she blushing? Was she disgusted? Was she annoyed? Was she wishing she hadn’t texted him?

_**Tifa:** I guess so. I don’t usually drink that much _

_**Tifa:** Working in a bar I try to avoid it. I don’t like losing control _

Cloud just stared at her words, his mind drifting places it shouldn’t be. 

_**Cloud:** Yeah. I know what you mean. I’m not a big drinker either. Or a pothead. _

_**Tifa:** I’m sorry about Aerith. She means well but she’s really… eccentric _

_**Cloud:** She’s cool. Do you smoke? _

_**Tifa:** No, not really _

Cloud stared at the text, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering at the vagueness of her response. He tried to imagine Tifa stoned, wondering if she would giggle the way that Aerith did, if her eyes would glass over, if she would become talkative and hyperactive or the total opposite. He found it difficult to imagine either way.

_**Cloud:** Not really? _

_**Tifa:** A few times. It’s not my thing. What about you _

_**Cloud:** Kinda hard to get stoned in the middle of a war zone. _

Cloud frowned at his phone as soon as he sent the text, wishing he could take it back, wishing he hadn’t gone there and brought that up. It was the last thing he’d wanted to talk about, and he didn’t want to encourage her to start asking about it again.

_**Tifa:** What about back home? I’m sure all the kids in Breckenridge were getting high. Wasn’t much else to do in that town _

Cloud frowned again, thinking back on Breckenridge, about his high school years, growing up without Tifa, surrounded by groups of kids who moved around him in packs and cliques, speeding past him in fast motion while he was stuck in stasis, watching them move around him with their aimless joy that he wanted no part of and wasn’t invited into, anyway.

_**Cloud:** Wasn’t really my thing, either. _

Tifa didn’t respond for a while, and Cloud stared at his phone awkwardly, wondering if he should continue the conversation, or if he should just let it die a natural death. Deciding to go with the latter, he started to slide the phone back into his pocket when it buzzed again, and he turned it to glance at it.

_**Tifa:** Can I call you? My fingers are getting tired _

Cloud stared at the message, his mouth hanging open slightly, his heartbeat starting to rise. Tifa wanted to talk to him? On the phone?

Texting, Cloud could handle. Texting was low stakes. He could think about what he wanted to say before he said it, could make sure that his words were smooth and perfectly communicated. Talking on the phone was another matter altogether. At least he wouldn’t be sitting right in front of her, but -

His train of thought was cut off when his PHS began to buzz right in his hand, and he glanced down to see that Tifa’s contact was scrolling across his screen.

She was calling him.

_Shit._

Cloud let the phone ring far too many times before he relented, sliding his thumb across the screen to accept the call. He swallowed hard before he brought the device up to his ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Cloud. Is this okay?” Tifa’s voice poured through the receiver with the smooth drip of honey. “Sorry, I didn’t want to text anymore. It’s too much when you have a lot to say.”

That statement slammed into him, its implications bearing weight and making him sit up a little straighter. “S-sure.”

Tifa sighed breathily, and Cloud was lost, not sure how to continue the conversation, or if he was even expected to do so. Should he even say anything? What did she want to talk about? Already, his nerves were so goddamn worked up that he had forgotten what they had even been texting each other about.

“So, you didn’t hang out with the cool kids in Breckenridge and smoke pot with them?” her voice suddenly teased, and Cloud remembered.

She was joking, but it kind of stabbed at him a little bit. He never hung out with the _cool_ kids in Breckenridge, he never hung out with any of the kids, really. Except for Tifa.

But then, she’d moved away.

“Nah,” Cloud answered as nonchalantly as he could muster.

He could hear Tifa hum over the phone, along with the faint rustlings of fabric in the background, like maybe clothing or… her sheets? No, she couldn’t be on the phone with him while she was in bed. Besides, it was still the middle of the afternoon, why would she be in bed?

“Tell me about the town, Cloud,” Tifa said to him then, and Cloud could hear her breathing through the phone, a light, airy sound that made him suddenly feel a new burst of warmth inside of his chest. “I kind of miss it.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Um, well, tell me about your mom. She was always so nice. How is she doing?”

Cloud leaned back in his chair, watching a couple stroll by, hand in hand, on the street below. “She’s doing okay, I guess. I haven’t seen her much since I left for the army. She calls me a lot, though.”

“She was always really sweet,” Tifa added. “My mom loved her. Now that I think about it, I think they were best friends.”

“Your mom was always at my house.”

“Yeah, I remember. It was nice, because we got to hang out together, right?”

Cloud stared down at his boots where he’d crossed his ankles in front of him, feeling his heart rate accelerate again at her words. They triggered his memories, drifting him back to times when they sat side by side in his backyard, tearing blades of grass out of the ground as they talked under a blanket of stars. Cloud remembered that he really didn’t say much, instead letting Tifa do the talking while he listened. She talked to him about everything, about her teachers and the work she hated to do in school, about her friends, about the books she had recently read or her piano lessons or the new musicians and bands she was listening to. Cloud remembered listening to it all, loving the sound of her voice as she talked to him about things he didn’t think she shared with anyone else. And sometimes she would stop, peppering him with questions of her own, prodding at him and trying to get him to open up to her. 

Cloud had never been as good as she was with conversation, but he always tried, only for her.

“Yeah, I remember them drinking wine while we hung out in the backyard. Or your treehouse.”

“The treehouse,” Tifa gushed, and the way that the pitch in her voice lilted made Cloud close his eyes, imagining that instead of being on the phone, he was laying beside her, toying his fingers through her dark hair while she talked to him. “We had so much fun in that treehouse. I remember how scared you would get when I read you those spooky stories from that chapter book I had.”

“I was not scared,” Cloud protested.

“Yes, you were,” Tifa continued to tease, and her laughter rang through the receiver like a chime, bright and colorful and spooling flames into the strings of his heart. Suddenly, even sitting out on the balcony with Brooklyn’s October winds rushing around him, Cloud felt his body enveloped in heat, burning him right up just from the sound of her voice. “I remember, I could tell by the look on your face.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” Cloud relented, placating her if only to hear her continued laughter. “You were really good at reading those stories. You always made them so dramatic, so it felt like I was there with the characters. And you know I don’t do ghosts.”

He heard Tifa laugh her response in the receiver. “Me either, really. My mom bought me a lot of those kinds of books. I miss her,” She added, her voice dropping with a hint of sadness, and Cloud wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her tight.

“How’s your dad?” he asked her, fighting the urges that were filling him with the ever-pressing need to be closer to her. It was beginning to infect his bones, burrowing and settling in with permanent residency.

Tifa expelled a sigh, and the sound wafted through the phone and landed on him with a wave. It was airy and light, a beautiful, melancholy sound that had him running his palm up and down his thigh. “He’s okay, I guess. My dad… he works a lot, you know, long hours.”

“Didn’t he run the bank in Breckenridge?”

“Yeah, but now he’s on Wall Street now. CFO at Shinra Capitol.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty big firm.”

Tifa sighed again, and Cloud thought the sound was awfully unhappy, and he wanted to know why.

“Yeah. He… wants me to go into finance, too. He wasn’t happy about my undergraduate major.”

“What did you choose?”

“Psychology.”

“Aren’t you working on your MBA?” Cloud asked, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “I thought that’s what you wanted to study.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Cloud wondered if she was fidgeting where she sat, twirling her fingers over each other the way that she sometimes did when she was nervous or fretful. If he could, he would reach out and take her hand in his, would stroke his fingers over the tops of her knuckles, soothing her unease away.

“It wasn’t my first choice,” was all she finally said in response, a note of resignation blunting her words.

“What do you want to do?” Cloud couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I…” Tifa trailed off, and Cloud could hear the faint rustling sounds of fabric again in her background. He wondered again what she was wearing. Yoga pants, maybe? Gods, she looked so good in spandex. He could stare at her ass all day if she was wearing yoga pants. 

“I just want to help people, Cloud. There’s so much poverty in this city. I never realized how privileged I was, how well I had it until I moved here and started volunteering with AVALANCHE. They really opened my eyes to how some people live here. And even Aerith - some of her students are so poor, she’s had to buy them winter coats and even feeds them breakfast all of the time. It’s so terrible, that some have so much and others have so little. If I can do anything to help…”

He heard her sigh again as she trailed off, and Cloud realized that his heart was beginning to pound. He had never really heard her talk like this, even when they were kids, she often had her head in the clouds, caring about the trivial things that kids cared about. But now, she was speaking with resolution in her voice, determined and strong, and Cloud not only found it incredibly sexy, but also endearing, and he wanted to know more.

“I’m sure whatever you do will help others, Tifa,” he told her with as much encouragement as he could muster in his voice. “You’re smart and strong. Any company or organization would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, Cloud,” she replied, and he could hear the smile erupt in her voice. It made him blush, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought about her pretty face right that moment, her scarlet eyes sparkling as her pouty red lips turned up into a smile at his words. “And how about you? Now that you’re out of the army, what are your dreams?”

_Dreams_. That word instantly conjured an image of her up in his mind again, and he realized, if the last two nights had been any indication, that his only dreams had been of her.

“Uh,” he trailed off, feeling heat rise up his neck, his voice cracking as he struggled over his own thoughts. “I, uh, like to write. Maybe one day I can write a book. Other than that, I don’t really know, Tifa. I’m not really focused like you are.”

She hummed again, a sound that was low in her throat, and hearing it through the phone made it sound sensual. He was wondering what other sounds she might make like that when she chuckled quietly on the other end.

“A book? Oh, Cloud, a writer? That’s so exciting. I remember how much you loved to read! I didn’t know that you were also a writer. What are you writing about?”

Cloud chewed the inside of his bottom lip, nervous to tell her any more. He didn’t talk to anyone about his writing, and telling her was scaring the shit out of him. She’d probably think he was a huge dork or a loser or a complete nerd.

“Fantasy,” he finally answered, his cheeks growing red as the word left his lips. Even though she was not sitting there with him, he felt like covering his face with his hands in embarrassment. “I like fantasy novels, so I have a couple of ideas for one. I just really haven’t been able to get the story to come out the way I want it to.”

“Can I read some of your work sometime?” she asked then, and Cloud felt a rise of panic just at the idea. “I would love to, and I could give you some feedback too.”

“Oh, Tifa, I don’t -“

“Do you write poetry, too?” she cut him off.

Cloud slid lower in his seat, feeling his heart beginning to stomp. “I have. I don’t write it as much, unless inspiration hits.”

“Can you write me a poem one day?” Tifa asked shyly, her voice small and tentative and laced through with hope.

Cloud cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like the blush on his cheeks and neck were giving him a fever. Was she seriously asking him to write her a fucking poem? That sounded awfully romantic for two people who were just fucking friends.

“Uh, I guess, sure. I’m really not very good though, Tifa.”

“I’ll read anything you write, Cloud.”

That really burned him up, and he had to unzip his hoodie a little, looking down and realizing that he was tenting his pants.

They continued to talk, minutes stretching into hours as the sun began to fade, Cloud staying on the balcony with the phone pressed to his ear as he and Tifa fell into the rhythm of an easy conversation, him letting her do most of the talking, just like when they were kids. She asked him again about his time in the army, but again, Cloud redirected her, not wanting to sour his mood by thinking about those years of blood and death and fiery explosions in the desert. Instead, he mumbled his way through a bleak explanation of his deployment before asking her about her volunteer work with AVALANCHE and her MBA studies and how she learned to bartend. He closed his eyes and listened to her, letting her share everything she wanted with him, stories of her years in a private high school Upstate, of her friendship with Aerith, of Columbia’s campus and its beautiful architecture and serene, quiet little cafes, and maybe one day she would take him for coffee at one of them. The entire time she spoke, all he could do was picture her sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck as she shared her life with him, his arms wrapped around her waist with one hand splayed around her firm, round ass that he couldn’t stop thinking about, her breasts cushioned soft against his chest.

Cloud’s phone was down to eight percent of its battery life, and it was now full dark outside, the temperature dropped several degrees, the wind howling by with a chill that infiltrated his bones. Just as Tifa let out a tiny yawn, Cloud heard a sharp laugh come from the sidewalk below, and he looked down over the balcony’s edge to find that Zack was walking Aerith up the steps of the brownstone across the street.

“Looks like the lovebirds are home,” Cloud said to Tifa.

“Well, it’s about time,” Tifa responded back, and Cloud could hear her voice thickened over with sleepiness. “They’ve been out all day. Wow, it’s already nine o’clock. We’ve been on the phone all afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Cloud rejoined in agreement, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it either.

“I should get ready for bed,” Tifa was saying next. “I have class in the morning, and I’m sure that Aerith will want to stay up half the night gushing to me about Zack.” 

“Sorry to hear that,” Cloud gibed, and Tifa let out a loud, husky laugh in response, and Cloud could just imagine her throwing her head back and exposing her smooth, porcelain-white throat, leaving him wanting to sink his teeth into her skin.

“I’m not working tomorrow, so you don’t have to wait for me, but I’ll text you, okay?” Tifa told him. “And you’ll walk me to the train on Tuesday?”

“Of course,” Cloud found himself responding immediately.

“Thanks, Cloud.” She grew quiet, and they sat there for a moment in silence, unsure of what to do or say next. Until, finally, Tifa sighed again. “Okay. Goodnight, Cloud.”

“Goodnight, Tifa,” Cloud told her, and he slid the phone from his ear and disconnected the call, staring down at the receiver before going inside of the apartment, locking himself in his room and unzipping his pants at the thought of her and her voice and her body in a quick attempt to relieve the tension she had spooled inside of him before Zack made it upstairs.

* * *

Tifa moved through her routine that week in a strange haze of distraction that was unlike anything she had felt in recent memory.

During her morning runs, sitting in her classes at Columbia and listening to her professors prattle on about managerial economics and financial strategy, mixing drinks at Seventh Heaven for Manhattan’s after-work crowd, Tifa found her thoughts in a constant swirl.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Cloud.

Cloud, who stayed on the phone with her all night. Cloud, who listened to her even when she’d begun to ramble. Cloud, who asked her questions about herself and seemed genuinely interested in her life. Cloud, who managed to quietly encourage her to pursue her dreams.

Ever since they had first reunited the Friday before, Tifa couldn’t get her mind off of him. He was so handsome and so reserved, like an unattainable Adonis, just out of reach. But then, on the phone Sunday night, he had just seemed so… warm. Tifa found talking to him on the phone was the easiest thing she ever did, as if their friendship of a decade ago had never truly ended and that they had simply picked up right where they left off. It was an amazing feeling to have someone to confide in, someone who seemed to understand her hangups and insecurities, and didn’t feel the need to judge her or shower her with unwanted advice the way that Aerith sometimes did.

And he continued to walk her home every night after work, taking the train with her, maintaining a respectful distance from her as they walked and talked, him with his hands in his pockets, mostly just listening to her chatter about her classes and the food drive Barret was planning in the Bronx. Occasionally she could get him to talk about himself with a well-placed question, but mostly he held back, content to listen to her, encouraging the conversation by asking her questions of his own. 

She realized that she wanted to spend more time with him, and maybe not just as friends.

She was pushing that thought from her mind for the thousandth time on Thursday afternoon when she heard a knock at her apartment’s door, just as she had finished changing clothes for her shift at Seventh Heaven that night. Aerith was still at school, tutoring in the after-school program.

She pulled her sweater overhead and combed her fingers through her hair before crossing the living room into the foyer, climbing down the steps to the first floor, pulling open the front door.

Standing on the stoop, dressed in a navy blue pinstriped suit, one hand in his pocket, was her father.

“Dad?” Tifa was surprised to see him standing there. He rarely visited her brownstone, even though he was mostly responsible for paying her rent. And he hadn’t called or texted her to let her know he was coming by. “What are you doing here?”

Brian Lockhart turned to her, the corner of his mouth turning his mustache up into a slight smile. His brown eyes softened at the sight of her.

“Tifa, sweetheart. Do you mind if I come in for a moment?”

Tifa nodded, stepping out of the way of the door to give him room to step in. Without hesitation, Brian stepped inside, making his way immediately for the stairs and heading up.

Tifa closed the door behind him and began to follow, wondering what had prompted his unexpected visit. Brian Lockhart was an extremely busy man. He was the number two executive at Shinra Capitol, one of the largest investment firms on all of Wall Street. She knew that he spent late hours into the night at the office, that his free time was consumed by cocktail parties and evening meetings and rendezvous spent wooing potential investors. He was very skilled at his job, had excellent business and financial sense, was charismatic and decisive. 

And he made Shinra a lot of money.

She did not see him often anymore, did not spend much time with him at all. In fact, ever since they had moved to New York after the death of her mother, Tifa found that their relationship slowly began to wither, especially with how much time he spent working. He’d sent her to an expensive private boarding school Upstate for high school, which meant that she only got to see him on some weekends and holidays when she came home to visit. When she’d started college, they saw even less of each other, especially when Tifa begged him to let her move out into the brownstone in Brooklyn with Aerith.

Not only did they rarely spend time together, but their relationship was often on the rocks. Brian had many grand ideas about Tifa’s life that he was sure about, plans he’d already laid out that she wanted no part of. Up to this point, he’d practically chosen each step that she’d taken - he chose the college she was going to attend and tried to force her hand at her major. When he found out that she’d defied him, his reaction had been explosive - and he immediately demanded that she apply for the MBA program, threatening to leave her penniless if she did not begin to honor his wishes.

It made her so angry. Why did he think that he had the right to dictate how she chose to live her life? She could make her own decisions, and working for some stuffy Wall Street firm, swindling people out of money as she traded stocks and shuffled derivatives was not her idea of a bright future.

Somehow, she had a feeling that his sudden appearance that afternoon had something to do with all of this.

She let him into the apartment, closing the door quietly behind them after they’d entered. Brian took a moment to look around her living room, brushing a spill of dark brown hair out of his eyes before he placed both hands in his pockets and turned to her.

“Would you like something to drink?” she offered, unsure of what else to say.

Her father just shook his head, still looking back over at her. “No, that’s quite alright, Tifa. I don’t plan to stay long. I just had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Tifa said, crossing over to the armchair where she usually sat, watching as her father waited a moment before deciding to drop onto her couch in the center of the room.

“How are your classes going?” he asked instead, and Tifa immediately felt her heart drop, knowing where the conversation was going.

“Fine. This is my last semester.”

“I’m aware,” Brian replied, leaning forward towards her, over his knees. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Tifa just stared at him, waiting, her right knee beginning to rock with the edge of dread behind it.

“I’ve secured a job for you at Shinra Capitol,” he told her seamlessly. “You will start right after you graduate.”

Tifa closed her eyes, her hands balling into fists at her side. She could feel the tension building inside of her, rising up from the pit of her belly until it reached her throat, choking her. She swallowed back the curse that had bubbled up and threatened to spill out of her mouth.

“Dad,” she began very slowly, her voice teetering on a knife’s edge. “I do not want to work for Shinra.”

Her father looked back at her with one eyebrow raised, and he leaned back casually again, his shoulders meeting the couch, one leg coming up to cross over the other. “Is that so? And why is that?”

Tifa placed her hands flat on the tops of her thighs, her fingers curling so that her nails could dig into the thick cotton of her jeggings. She was trying to tamp down the annoyance that was building inside of her, not wanting this conversation to turn explosive.

“I’m not interested,” she said simply. “There are opportunities for community organizers in every borough, and AVALANCHE could use a financial strat-“

“Tifa,” her father cut her off immediately, his voice now stern and crisp, carrying shards of ice in its tone. “I thought we’d been over this already. You’ve had your fun trying to save the world, but now it is time to get to work. You need a real job and a steady career.”

“What I’m doing is real,” Tifa bit back defensively, and already she could feel hot tears of frustration burn the corners of her eyes. The truth was, they _had_ had this conversation before. Many times. Her father had constantly criticized her decision to both bartend and work with AVALANCHE in the community. He considered it fruitless, bleeding-heart charity work, and he considered her bartending in a nightclub to be simply loutish and unrefined. So many times he had torn down her choices with his judgments and his threats, and she wondered if he even knew how badly his words often hurt her, a blade that cut slices of her heart away every time he reproached her. “I don’t want to work on Wall Street.”

“I don’t have time to argue about this, Tifa,” Brian waved a hand in the air, dismissing her, rising again to his feet. “The decision has already been made. You will work as a financial strategist in the Vice President’s office. I negotiated quite the salary for you.” His hands were in his pockets again as he leveled his gaze at her, his dark brown eyes hardening into blocks of onyx. “He was just appointed to the seat by the Board. A charming lad, just a few years older than you.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on Tifa’s face, and under the weight of his stare, she found herself scraping her nails against her jeans again. “ And, turns out that your little psych degree might actually be of some use. Shinra is also looking for a performance coach for him. I think you will find that you’ll like him very much.”

“I won’t,” Tifa responded defiantly, but her father only began to laugh.

“I’ve tolerated your rebellion for long enough, Tifa, but now it’s time to grow up,” he scolded her harshly. “Time to act like an adult. Enjoy your fun for now, but you will not defy me this time. You will take the job at Shinra, and you will not embarrass me in the process, else you will be very sorry.”

Tifa got to her feet, her fists balled at her sides again. The anger had transformed into a disbelieving rage by now, and she knew if she had to stare at her father and listen to any more of his threats, she would burst into tears.

“I’m going to be late for work,” was all she said instead, and her father offered her a smile, closing the gap between them to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Everything will work out just fine, Tifa,” he told her as he stepped away, making for the door. “I’ll be in touch, soon. The Shinras are looking forward to meeting you.”

Tifa watched as he disappeared, unable to move from where she was rooted to the floor, the door closing quietly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, the tears began to spill, silently crashing down the sides of her face, and Tifa slammed her hands at both of her sides, her frustration bursting out of her like a dam had been breached.

That night, at Seventh Heaven, Tifa worked through her duties in a thick fog of disorientation and nervous distraction. Her father’s sudden and unexpected visit had left her warped in a blend of confusion and anger, brimmed over with sadness and despair at his threats, and at the meticulous way he was planning out her life without her input or her consent. Not only was he choosing her career for her, but he had even implied that he was playing matchmaker for her as well. She wanted no parts of it, but she knew that he would be ruthless and relentless, and she wondered how much she was willing to sacrifice to be free of the binds he was tying around her.

Tifa knew that her relationship with her father was hopelessly strained, knew that he had never completely worked his way through his grief at his wife’s death, had never released his guilt around it, and as a result coped by working himself to death making himself and his investors rich. But Tifa was still hurting, too, still missed her mother and her soft embraces and the way that her fingers rolled off of the keys as she taught her how to play the piano. She never got the chance to tell her mother about her first crush or about any of the things she was interested in, never got to have the kinds of mother-daughter conversations and moments that her friends at school had taken advantage of. And she had been ripped from her home without warning and dumped into a big, scary new city that was isolating and left her feeling alone, especially when her father spent more time working than he ever had before.

And now he was forcing her to follow in his footsteps. He didn’t even entertain her ideas or her own dreams and wishes for her future. He brushed them off dismissively, waving them away as if they were gnats that were pestering the air around him. It made her burn up inside with anger, and the more she thought about it, him accepting a job on her behalf without even consulting her, implying that she might even like the company’s Vice President - who she could not imagine could be anything more than a narcissistic, pompous, over-inflated asshole like everyone else who worked on Wall Street - the more she wanted to scream and shatter the glasses behind the bar. Even when Jessie came around later that night, teasing her about Cloud, Tifa had not been interested and had walked away soundlessly from her, wiping the counter down with far too much force as her head began to pound with rage.

After serving rounds and rounds of drinks for a steady, endless stream of customers, there was finally a little bit of downtime around ten-thirty, and Tifa stopped for a moment to catch her breath. Across the room, she watched where Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge were seated around a table, throwing back beers as they laughed about something she wasn’t privy to. They all looked so happy and carefree, each of them living their lives exactly the way they wanted to, free from the manipulations and machinations of others. It made her hot with envy, hating the cruel unfairness of the world.

Turning away from the sight of her friends, Tifa slid her phone from her apron, unlocking the screen. The frustration over her conversation with her father was so stacked inside of her, she needed badly to release it somehow, to get it off of her chest before it burst its way out and tore her in half. She could think of only one person who might actually listen to her complain about her misfortunes, and she opened up her text messages.

_**Tifa:** Heya _

_**Cloud:** Hey, Teef. _

He’d responded almost immediately, and Tifa felt her face grow warm at the sight of the nickname he used for her. He had taken to calling her that when they were kids, but she hadn’t heard him say it to her yet since they’d been reunited. It was cute, and it made butterflies tumble inside of her tummy.

_**Tifa:** How’s your day going? _

_**Cloud:** Not bad. Boring. You? _

Tifa bit her bottom lip, running her thumb along the screen’s glow. Did she really want to unload this on him? Was that even fair? These were her problems, and maybe she should just try to deal with them herself.

She couldn’t stop herself, though.

**Tifa:** Not great

**Cloud:** What’s wrong?

She sighed, staring at the cursor as it blinked up at her, waiting for her reply. She shook her head again, thinking of her father and the thundering note of finality in his voice when he announced his decision. The tears were threatening her eyes again, and Tifa suddenly hated herself for her weakness.

_**Tifa:** It’s just… a long story. I’ll tell you later. You’ll still walk me tonight? _

_**Cloud:** Of course. I’ll meet you at Seventh Heaven. _

_**Tifa:** You don’t have to do that. You can meet me at our usual spot by the bakery _

_**Cloud:** I want to. It’s not a big deal. I’ll see you soon. _

Tifa sighed again, deadening the phone’s screen and pressing it close to her chest, closing her eyes and seeing his last words stamped against her eyelids.

_I’ll see you soon._

And just as he said, not even an hour and a half later, Cloud was walking through Seventh Heaven’s front doors, head to toe in black again, the night’s breeze blowing a gust and ruffling his blond hair gently as he stepped in from outside. Tifa was wiping the bar down, getting ready to close the main dining room as the last customers began to vacate.

Cloud stayed by the door, hands in his pockets as he looked over toward the bar, finding her there and letting his blue eyes slide to her face. She offered him a smile from across the room, watching his eyes light up as his lips broke out into a smirk.

At his arrival, Jessie perked up and practically leaned over the table next to Biggs to get a good look at Cloud. Instantly, she let out a whistle.

“Hey, Tifa,” she called from across the room, and already Tifa felt herself blushing. “Looks like your knight in shining armor is here.”

Cloud ignored Jessie, who broke out into peals of laughter while Biggs and Wedge only offered him sympathetic smiles. Tifa did notice that his smirk began to widen slightly. She untied her apron and dropped it on the countertop before coming around from behind the bar, retrieving her coat from the rack in the corner.

“So, how are we doing with the bet?” Jessie asked, kicking her feet up on a chair as she leaned back in her seat. “Looks like Zack lost. I still say you won’t make it until next week, but maybe Aerith is right.” Her lips pulled back into a devilish smile, and Tifa wanted to slap her.

“We’re friends, Jessie,” she reminded her cooly, and part of Tifa wondered if she were also trying to convince herself of the fact. “All of you are going to lose.”

Jessie just laughed richly in response, clapping her hands in front of her, Biggs merely shaking his head. Her face still red with a blend of embarrassment and annoyance, Tifa turned away from them and joined Cloud at the door.

“She’s so annoying,” she told him, and he nodded in agreement, still smirking at her. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Cloud held the door for her and they left Seventh Heaven together, stepping out into the brisk night, the cold whipping Tifa’s long hair into a dark stream behind her. Cloud’s hands remained in his pockets as they walked, and Tifa kept her head down, afraid to look up at him and afraid to begin talking, so caught up in the tangled web of her own feelings.

They made it several blocks toward the subway station when Cloud finally turned to her, and she could feel his blue stare on the side of her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked her quietly.

Tifa heaved out a sigh, wondering again if she should bother unloading all of this on him. She shook her head slightly.

“I think so.”

A long moment passed, and soon they came to a busy intersection. Tifa watched the cars roll past, watched the buses and the taxis make their way through the streets that were still pulsing with life, even at this late hour. She watched the light turn green, and she and Cloud made their way across the street, heading for the subway on the other side.

“What did you want to talk about?” he finally broke the silence, just as they had made their way down the steps into the subway and were waiting on the platform for their train.

Tifa buried her hands in the pockets of her peacoat, still feeling the night’s chill deep in the layers of her skin. She shook her head with a little sniff, not wanting to look up at him.

“Oh, it’s just…some things, with my dad.”

The train pulled into the station then, screeching over her words as its wheels churned over the tracks, grinding out sparks of iron that flew into the air. Cloud had started to open his mouth again, but stopped at the sight of the train, instead lightly pressing his palm to the small of her back as he walked behind her, guiding her carefully inside of the car.

Inside, Tifa took a seat on an empty bench, and Cloud immediately sat right next to her, closer than he’d ever been, much closer than he usually sat when they rode the train home together. He was so close to her that she could catch hints of his aftershave again, that same woody scent that had left her feeling a little intoxicated when she’d fallen on top of him on the train just a week ago. It left her feeling compelled to lean into him, wishing she could ask him to wrap his arms around her and hold her against him so that she could breathe him in and absorb his warmth.

“What about him?” Cloud picked up the conversation, just as the train began to move.

Tifa sighed, fiddling with her hands in front of her. She looked up at him, finding him watching her face with concern, and suddenly she was so, so glad that he was here, that he had found her here in New York and that they were reunited again.

“He… my father just doesn’t get me at all,” she finally conceded, looking down again and tossing her head sadly. “He’s trying to plan my life, to get me to take a job with Shinra that I don’t want. He even accepted the job for me without my consent. It makes me so angry, Cloud. I feel… trapped.”

She shook her head again, feeling her hands ball up in her lap once more as the anger built back up alongside her thoughts. Cloud was still staring at her, his royal blue eyes tranquil and soft as they scanned her face.

“It’s your life though, Tifa,” he told her softly. “If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.”

“I wish it was that simple,” she breathed in response, shoulders heaving. “He doesn’t take no for an answer, Cloud. He… threatens me. To cut off my inheritance, to disown me if I don’t obey.”

Cloud started to say something, but she watched him bite it back, his eyes flashing as he reconsidered his next words. “Do you need it?” he asked her instead, “The money, I mean.”

Tifa shrugged a little in response. She had often wondered whether or not she could survive without her father’s purse strings. “I mean, I don’t know, Cloud. I guess I’m scared. I’ve never been truly on my own before. Even now, my father pays my rent, pays for all of my education.” She laughed darkly, looking back at where her hands fidgeted in her lap again. “God, you must think I’m so spoiled.”

“Not at all,” Cloud replied nonchalantly, “You deserve to be taken care of, Tifa.”

His words sent a hot thrill through her, sending her heart into a sudden rise, and she glanced over at him, only to find that he had made himself blush and that he was now staring down at his own hands. He leaned forward over his knees, shaking his head out as if that would dispel the effects his sentiment had had on the atmosphere.

She said nothing, only melting against the heat that rose in her own cheeks, hearing his voice over and over again on repeat in her brain.

_You deserve to be taken care of, Tifa._

_Will you take care of me?_

“Tifa,” he was saying softly to her, and she looked up to see he had leaned back again and was looking directly at her, his arms now at his sides. “Long time ago, I made a promise. That I’d be here for you if this city ever became too overwhelming for you. I want you to know I’m still here. If you ever want to talk, I’m listening.”

Tifa felt her heart begin to stutter in her chest, beating so hard and fast it became irregular. Their promise. He remembered their promise, words shared under the stars out west so many long years ago, words that she was sure he had forgotten they’d ever whispered between each other. That he remembered, and was avowing it to her once again, here in this big city that was swallowing her whole and choking her to death at the same time, made her eyes burn with tears and her heart swell, even pulsing warmth between her knees.

“You remembered,” she whispered as she looked up at him, finding his eyes bright and cerulean blue, pulsing with bright sparks of jade.

“Of course,” he encouraged, turning his body slightly to face her even more, and it was as if he were inviting her closer to him with his body language. “I never forgot. But you never reached out for me, so I never thought you needed me.”

_I need you_ , she wanted to scream, and she also realized that she wanted to kiss him.

Instead, she offered him a bright, radiant smile, just as their train crossed out of the East River and entered Brooklyn.

“Thank you, Cloud. That means a lot to me.”

* * *

Cloud couldn’t get Tifa out of his head.

The distraction was so thick that on Saturday, he had to get out of the house if he wanted to get anything done, and so he headed once again to Prospect Park with his messenger bag. Zack was on another daytime date with Aerith, the pair of them content to paint all five boroughs with their infectious dalliances. Tifa would be working until late at night, and he had the day off, and even though he wanted badly to text her and see how her day was going, he didn’t want to disrupt her work with his foolishness. Instead, he tried to write, sitting at his laptop for hours and barely tapping out more than a few lines. After a time, he slammed the laptop shut and pulled out his journal, taking some time to work on the poem that Tifa had asked him for, and with her on his mind, the words fell away from his fingers as if he were a spider spindling a web. He looked down at the words on the page when he stopped, and his face instantly flooded with heat when he saw the intimacy and affection he’d penned, and he closed the journal and flung it to the side.

Nope. No way he was giving her that shit.

The sun was still high in the sky when he leaned back against the bench, watching the leaves kick up from where they had fallen in the wind, watching teams of school-age children battle each other with a soccer ball between them on the field ahead. Even though his eyes were staring ahead, his vision was clouded again by her, an image of her full lips and dark carmine eyes and thick black hair pooled around her as she looked up at him with a smile invading his senses again. He thought back to their conversation again the other night, where she had confessed the stresses in her life because of her father’s control over her.

Cloud remembered thinking, as a kid back in Breckenridge, that Tifa Lockhart’s father had always been somewhat of an ass. He was constantly frowning, a surly type who was always rude to his mother whenever they ran into him at the bank. Cloud didn’t know why the man was perpetually in a bad mood, but it seemed that things hadn’t changed much, and it made Cloud burn up inside that he treated Tifa the way that he did. She deserved better, to live her life the way that she wanted to, and Cloud was determined to do everything he could to make sure that she knew that.

With the reminder of their promise now revived between them, Cloud wondered how many ways he could fulfill it, and if any of them could bridge the tentative gap that stood between them. Despite the time they were spending together - him walking her home every night, her calling him and spending hours on the phone with him, both of them texting each other at random intervals throughout the days and nights, the unspoken truth remained that they were simply operating as friends. Tifa had made sure to point that fact out anytime Jessie or one of her friends teased them, and Cloud was broken up inside about it. He wondered if there would ever come a time that he could be something more to her.

He wondered if he could risk their friendship, which was one of the oldest and dearest things that he cherished, to find out.

Cloud moved through the rest of the day restlessly, getting very little accomplished and still unable to get Tifa off of his mind. When it grew late, he dressed in dark jeans and a black pullover, throwing on his motorcycle jacket as he left the apartment and headed Downtown to Seventh Heaven.

Being a Saturday night, even close to the closing hour, the club was still packed with patrons, some still dancing, others enjoying food and drink at tables scattered throughout the dining room. When Cloud entered, his gaze instantly made contact with Tifa’s across the room as they stared at each other, her face erupting into a bright smile as she announced last call. Hands in his pockets, Cloud crossed the room over to her at the bar.

He found it impossible to tear his eyes away from her body once they’d landed on her - she was dressed to the nines again, tonight in a plum-colored sweater dress that was belted at the waist with thick black leather that highlighted the curved dips in her shape. Her legs were wrapped in black tights, and she was wearing black, high-heeled suede boots that reached her knees. She’d inked that slight smattering of dark makeup around her eyes that made them wide and bright and made him wish he could stare deep into them as he made love to her all night long.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

“Heya,” she greeted him when he walked over, and he tried desperately not to openly admire her body where she stood behind the bar. Goddamnit, it should be illegal for a woman to be so divinely crafted, and he found himself wishing she would turn around so that he could get a good look at her ass in that dress. That thought instantly had him snapping his eyes up to hers, meeting them where she was smiling at him.

“Hey, Teef.”

Her smile brightened at his words, and he felt his heart start to kick up a little in his chest, felt his breathing fall into an odd pace. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? Was she aware of how badly she tore him to shreds every time she looked at him like this?

“I won’t be too much longer,” She told him as she moved deftly behind the bar, collecting checks from customers and offering others their last drinks. After a moment, she stopped and pulled a beer from a fridge behind her, popping off its cap before she offered it to him. 

“Here, you should try this. It’s a new IPA we just got in this week. Let me know if you like it.” She was smiling again as he accepted the bottle from her. “Why don’t you go hang out with Biggs while I finish up?” She nodded at a booth across the room.

Mercifully, Jessie was nowhere in sight, and Wedge was busy helping Barret stack cases in the stockroom. Cloud turned, seeing Biggs wave at him from the booth where he sat in the corner while Tifa started counting down the till.

“I’m sorry about Jessie,” Biggs said when Cloud sat down across from him, swallowing back a swig of his beer. “She can be a little over the top. But she’s fun, if you know what I mean.” He grinned at Cloud, but Cloud just shrugged.

“I don’t let it get to me,” he responded, bringing his own beer up to his lips. “I just don’t want it to upset Tifa.”

Biggs set his beer down and leveled his gaze squarely with Cloud’s, brown eyes warm and benevolent. “It’s none of my business,” he began, and Cloud almost rolled his eyes, already knowing what was coming. “But do you have feelings for her?”

Cloud said nothing, staring down at his beer and cursing the gods, feeling his neck heat up again.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Biggs quickly followed up, and Cloud was grateful that out of all of Tifa’s friends, this guy seemed to have the most common sense. “But if you do, you should tell her. It’s pretty obvious that she thinks you’re someone special. She talks about you a lot when you’re not around.”

Cloud didn’t know how to reconcile that, especially since Tifa kept insisting that they were just fucking friends.

“All I’m saying, is,” Bigg continued, “That life is too short to live with regrets, right? So if you want something, you should just go for it.”

_Easier said than done_ , Cloud thought in utter despair.

Later that night, after Seventh Heaven had finally shut down and Cloud and Tifa were walking to the subways, Cloud had been wondering what he should say to her, if he should ask her about her day or if things had gotten any better with her father, when Tifa suddenly turned up to him, her eyes sparkling like cherry-flavored candies beneath the streetlights they passed under.

“Hey, Cloud,” she began, “You know, tomorrow is my off day.” She was grinning playfully at him, and Cloud thought back to last Sunday, when they had spent nearly the entire day on the phone. “We should totally celebrate your move to New York. I can take you to some of my favorite places in the city.”

He looked down at her, blinking as if he had misheard her. Was she asking him on a date?

“What do you think?” she prodded him when he didn’t respond. 

“Okay,” he finally answered, his heart beginning to thunder against his ribs. “Where do you want to go?”

“You let me worry about that,” she replied, and Cloud was wondering what the fuck was happening. Was she flirting with him? She sounded like she was flirting. “Just make sure you pick an outfit that matches mine, okay? I’m thinking about wearing purple.”

She was flirting.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_.

Cloud glanced down at her, thinking about the dark plum sweater dress she was wearing that was now obscured by her peacoat. “It’s a nice color on you,” he complimented, unable to resist himself.

Tifa smiled and started to blush, turning away slightly. He saw her bite down on her bottom lip, smudging her pink lip gloss slightly, and all he could think about was what it would feel like if he leaned down and nipped her lip between his own teeth.

After a moment she looked back up at him, her face flushed and her eyes bright.

“This is going to be so much fun!”

Cloud and Tifa had a lot of fun that Sunday.

Cloud woke early that next morning, sometime after ten, to his phone buzzing on his nightstand, Tifa’s name and her blue heart staring up at him on the screen.

_**Tifa:** Rise and shine! We should get moving so we get a full day. Can you be ready by 11:30? _

Cloud grinned, holding the phone up above his face, still lying in bed. His heart began to pound as he thought about spending the day with Tifa, letting her guide him through the city. He typed out his response, wondering if she was still laying in bed as she texted him, wondering what she wore to bed at night to sleep.

_**Cloud:** Good morning, Teef. Sure. I’ll meet you outside of your place. _

A moment passed before she responded.

_**Tifa:** Great! I’m going to take a shower now. I’ll see you in a little bit _

Cloud slammed his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting the phone fall to his chest. _Goddamnit_. Why did she feel the need to inform him of that detail? Now all he could think about was her in the shower, naked with hot water flowing in rivers down her curves.

He had to turn his own shower that morning to the cool side to tamp down the arousal that was burning through his veins and threatening him with a persistent erection.

After dressing for the day in dark wash jeans and a dark purple zip-up sweater - it was the only piece of clothing he owned in that shade - Cloud prepared to leave the apartment, finding Zack laying across the couch, a video game controller in hand as he played a racing game on the television in front of him. Seeing Cloud enter the living room, Zack paused the game and sat up to get a good look at him.

“And just where are you going, dressed like that?” Zack asked instantly, sky-blue eyes wide and scanning him up and down in appraisal.

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. “Tifa’s taking me to see a few things in the city,” He answered carefully, knowing he was probably going to regret revealing this to Zack. “She’s off on Sundays, so it’s the only time she really has to go anywhere.”

Zack’s eyebrows had nearly left his face. “A date, huh?” he asked.

“It’s not like that,” Cloud insisted immediately.

“Sure, it isn’t,” Zack laughed in response, turning back to the television. “Well, have fun. If you need a rubber, I have a bunch in my room.”

“Won’t be necessary,” Cloud responded, wincing at the thought of having sex with Tifa. If only the gods were that generous. “And what about you? Not spending the day with Aerith today?”

Zack smirked. “Well, now that I know you’re leaving, maybe I’ll invite her over,” he said. 

“Just don’t leave a mess anywhere I can find it,” Cloud jeered, and Zack let out a long guffaw. “And maybe clean up this apartment before she comes over. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re a real comedian, you know that?” Zack laughed, resuming his game again. “Have fun with your _friend_.”

Cloud ignored him, pulling his jacket on and making his way out of the apartment and leaving Zack alone with his own wild laughter.

Outside, Cloud made his way across the street to Tifa’s brownstone, his heart beginning its steady climb again as he neared the gate outside of her building. He pulled out his phone, noting that the time was eleven-thirty on the dot. He opened her contact, realizing with some dread that his hands were shaking as he typed out a text to her.

_**Cloud** : Hey. I’m outside. _

A minute or two passed before she responded.

_**Tifa** : I’m on my way down! _

He slid his phone back into his pocket and then dropped his hands into them as well, leaning against the gate as he waited for Tifa, his heart still tearing through his chest. It was only a few moments later when the front door opened, and Tifa appeared, smiling at him as she closed the door behind her.

She was wearing her hair up this time, a tall ponytail that was swept up and pulled tight at the back of her head, similar to the style she’d worn when jogging through Prospect Park, only this time, she had combed long tendrils to fall and frame the sides of her face in an inky spill, complimented by the way her bangs rested against her forehead. He couldn’t see her complete outfit beneath her coat, but he did notice that she was wearing dark, skinny-leg jeans that were melded to her lower half, her calves wrapped in black wedged boots that had a line of black fur at the top. A black patent-leather purse hung over her shoulder.

Cloud tried to summon his senses as she skipped down the steps to him, approaching him and bringing with her a breeze of vanilla and something else that smelled sugary and sweet and made him want to bury his face in the threads of her hair or maybe in the crook of her neck. Instead, he remained silently in place as she stood before him, clasping her hands behind her back as she peered up at him.

“Did you remember to wear purple?” was the first thing she said to him.

Cloud unzipped his motorcycle jacket, showing off the sweater he was wearing. She grinned at him, her face lighting up with delight, and she took a step back, unbuttoning her coat and opening it, before she flung her hands to her hips as she posed for him.

She was wearing a dark violet-hued blouse that was made of a stretchy, jersey-knit material, a deep V-neck cut at the top that exposed just the right amount of her cleavage. The neckline was decorated with black lace and silver gemstones that were cut into the shapes of crescent moons. The blouse was long and poured over her hips with a ruched detail at the sides that made it cling to her body. The entire thing was tight and melded closely, perfectly, to her shape, and Cloud felt the neurons beginning to short-circuit in his brain as he took her in.

Did she have any idea how fucking hot she was? Did she even realize how her absolute divinity was paralyzing him?

“What do you think?” She asked him after a beat.

“You look good,” he replied like an idiot, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. “I mean, great. Really pretty.”

_Shut up shut up shut up_

“Thanks,” she replied, buttoning up her coat again, and he realized she was blushing as she looked down. “You look really nice too.”

Cloud felt his own cheeks flare at that, and nervously, he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

The moment passed before he could respond, though, and Tifa was soon pulling at his arm, leading him down the street.

“Come on, let’s go. I have everything planned for us. First stop is Union Square. There’s something special I want to show you there.”

Cloud followed Tifa through New York, letting her lead him to the subway and the trains out of Brooklyn as they returned to Manhattan. At this early afternoon hour, the streets and the trains were busy with commuters and tourists, and for Cloud, it was the first time he had really been out in the city when its daytime life was in full swing. When they emerged from the subway near Broadway in Downtown Manhattan, Cloud almost felt overwhelmed by the number of people who were on the streets, roving in packs, some of them stopping in the middle of the street to take photos, others lining the sidewalks as they sat at outdoor patios in front of cafes and restaurants. Taxis sped by in traffic that seemed too heavy for a Sunday, which was supposed to be a calm day of rest. It didn’t seem like that rule applied here in New York.

“This way,” Tifa pulled on his arm, and Cloud suddenly became hyper-aware of that fact that she had looped hers through his, so that they were standing side by side, close to one another. He tried to ignore the fact that she was holding on to him as if they belonged to each other, tried not to let his mind fizz up every time the wind billowed her sweet fragrances into his senses.

She brought him to a tall brick building on the corner of Broadway that was rimmed by a bright red awning, the words “Strand Bookstore” painted to its facade. Arms still locked together, Tifa pulled open the door, and Cloud held it open for them both as they walked inside.

Compared to the exterior of the building, the inside was cozy and warm, all wooden shelves and quiet nooks with little couches and chairs. And every surface was lined with books, rows upon rows that were filled floor to ceiling with stacks.

Tifa had finally dropped his arm, and was now standing at his side, looking up at him as his eyes drank in the entire place.

“This is the most famous bookstore in New York City,” she bubbled up at him, her eyes bright with excitement. “It’s been here for decades. I thought you might like to check it out, as much as you like your books.”

It took Cloud a long moment before he could tear his eyes away from the stacks, dropping them to her face again. She was smiling so warmly at him, that everything at once crashed into him and slammed the breath from his lungs, leaving him wondering what he did to deserve her as his friend, someone so kind and sweet and thoughtful.

As their eyes met, his deep aquamarine pools connecting with her ruby gems, he found himself wishing she could be more than just a friend, wishing that maybe she could be his girlfriend and maybe he could kiss her.

“Wow, Tifa,” he breathed instead, flinging those dangerous thoughts to the sidelines. “This is awesome. Thanks for bringing me here.”

She merely giggled at him, pulling on his arm again.

“Come on. Let’s check out the stacks.”

They walked together for a while through the bookstore, working their way around the crowds of other customers in the shop. It was no secret that Strand was extremely popular, and being a cramped space like so many other New York City shops, Cloud found himself constantly excusing himself as he squeezed his way between aisles. Eventually, he and Tifa broke off and separated from each other as they hunted the stacks, reuniting some time later by the back of the store near the checkout counter.

Tifa had an armful of books when she rejoined him.

“What did you get?” she asked him.

Cloud looked down at his hands, showing her the books he’d picked out. “Ah, this is a new fantasy series I’ve meaning to try,” he told her. “It’s about a summoner and an athlete who have to defeat a monster that destroys worlds throughout space and time.” He turned over another book in hand. “And, this book of poetry by Pablo Neruda.”

Tifa smiled so brightly, Cloud felt like she was blinding him. “Oh, I love Pablo Neruda! So romantic,” she proclaimed, and Cloud blushed, not expecting her to know the author that well and now hoping that she didn’t figure out he had picked out the poetry book because she had asked him to write a poem for her. “That story sounds really interesting, too. I like thrillers and suspense, so I picked these.” She held out the books she’d chosen for him to look at.

“You always did like that kind of stuff,” he teased, and Tifa laughed in response as they made their way to the counter to pay.

For the rest of the afternoon into the early evening, Tifa led Cloud through her favorite parts of Manhattan, first taking him to Central Park, which was even bigger and greener than Prospect Park, filled to the brim with runners and kids playing sports and couples going for strolls. They sat together on benches and cracked open their books, sitting silently side by side as they read the first few pages. Cloud left the Neruda book at the bottom of the bag, instead pulling out the first book of the fantasy series to read while Tifa dug in one of her thrillers about a woman who tried to frame her unfaithful husband for her murder by faking her death. Cloud found it bizarre that Tifa had such dark tastes in reading material, but it only made him want to learn more about her, to get to know her better, to find out everything about her.

After sitting in the park for a while, Tifa took Cloud to an early dinner at a cafe called The Old Rose, where they dined on light Italian fare and where Tifa insisted they have a cocktail with their meal, even though it was still the middle of the afternoon. He watched her as she smiled and laughed, telling him stories about Aerith, who apparently was a real boho, whatever that meant. She told him about going to school in Upstate New York, about the snobbish rich kids she met in private school, about how she thought everyone in New York was really full of themselves.

She was so happy and open, and Cloud could listen to her talk all day long.

As the October sky began to darken, Tifa and Cloud took the train back to Brooklyn, but Tifa stopped them before they got off at their usual stop.

“I want to show you one more place,” she told him, pulling at his jacket as they got off in Brooklyn Heights.

The sky was streaked with purple and cherry red as Cloud followed Tifa deeper along the streets of Brooklyn, the wind sending the cord of her ponytail up into swirls around her shoulders and behind her back as she walked. He let himself fall back a pace behind her, if for no other reason than to admire her from behind, taking in her shape and the rise of her rear end even with her coat wrapped around her body.

“Right over here,” she told him, leading him to a walkway in the distance that was lined with pretty trees and benches and street vendors. She brought him to a gated facade that overlooked a wide expressway, and in the distance, the entire New York City skyline was illuminated against colorful sparkles of sunset in the distance, black and silver skyscrapers reaching up into the heavens and touching the stars.

“Isn’t it pretty?” She asked him as she leaned over the fence, and Cloud could see the glitters of the skyline sparkle in her eyes as she stared ahead. “This is the Brooklyn Promenade. It’s my favorite place in the city, I think.”

Cloud nodded, coming up to stand next to her, drinking in the landscape and all of its beauty. Ever since he’d moved to New York, he really had never taken a moment to stop and admire it, to look around at his surroundings that were so different from the scenery back in Colorado. With her standing at his side now, staring across the void to the city below, her hair floating in tendrils in the wind, her scent once again invading his senses, Cloud felt himself turning to look at her.

He found her staring up at him too, her lips pouted into a slight smile. He caught the twinkle of her earring against the lights in the distance, sparkling with a silver glint.

“I’m really glad to have you back, Cloud,” she professed suddenly, and the words slammed into him, sending him reeling even though he remained rooted in place. “Really glad.”

Despite his best efforts, he found himself grinning uncharacteristically at her words, his entire body oozing with affection for her. There was something about the way that she spoke to him, her voice so gentle and sweet, her tone so husky and decadent, that made him want to reach out and pull her close, made him desperate to lean forward and steal a kiss from her.

And just as the words dropped away from her lips, he realized that he was glad to be back with her too, that it was like coming home, only to no home he’d ever known. 

And he realized, as her eyes sparkled like glasses of strawberry wine under the gleams of New York’s skyline, that he was starting to fall in love with her.

_Goddamnit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! XD 
> 
> Update should be within the next two weeks! Feedback always welcome 💋⛓💫


	3. Between The Shadows and The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Yes, that chapter count did go up... whoops.
> 
> First, I want to thank everyone for your wonderful comments and thoughts about this story, they have been a joy to read and I love hearing your thoughts. I am especially overjoyed to hear how many folks are from NYC or have been to places that appear in this story, it's been amazing that so many connections have been made!
> 
> I want to give a special shout out to stickyelectrons, who I am also gifting this fic to, for being so supportive as I write this story and for sharing so many wonderful thoughts, and also, her amazing art!
> 
> I want to also give a special thank you to Breathingslowly on Discord, who I have had wonderful conversations about this story with, and who has given me some inspiration and thoughts that have helped guide me as I continue to write it.
> 
> And of course, a HUGE shout to spaceOdementia for being an amazing beta and for always listening to me navigate these plots and plan this story out.
> 
> The title of this chapter comes from a line in The Midnight song, ['Brooklyn'.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ey30-sYvuU)
> 
> Also, this story has inspired some art from some unbelievably talented artists!! a;fja;lfjk I am so thrilled and honored!! Please check them out and scream at these amazing artists on Twitter!!
> 
> [stickyelectrons 1](https://twitter.com/StickyElectrons/status/1315572432862801922?s=20)  
> stickyelectrons 2
> 
> [Ushijoy](https://twitter.com/Ushijoy1/status/1315576158235160576?s=20)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter Three 

Between the Shadows and the Stars

Sundays had always been Tifa’s favorite day of the week, because they were her days off, when she didn’t have to work or worry about class or teaching at the dojo or even volunteering with AVALANCHE, when she didn’t have to do anything except what she wanted to do, time that she could spend entirely to herself, locked away in her room if she wanted to be.

But now, even that had changed, if just a little bit. Sundays were now her favorite day of the week for an entirely different reason.

Sundays were her favorite day because they had become her day with Cloud.

Ever since that first Sunday, when she’d brought him to the Strand and to Central Park and the Promenades, something cemented and became ritual between them. The following week, Tifa showed Cloud around Williamsburg, where they bar hopped during the day and sampled cocktails at several chic, local lounges, their cheeks flushed by the time they stopped by the waterfront to admire a new skyview of the city. The week after that, they went with Aerith and Zack to Ellis Island, visiting the Statue of Liberty and riding the ferry over the Hudson before sharing French pastries at Petrossian in Manhattan, their friends laughing and pawing at each other the entire time while Cloud and Tifa maintained a respectful, friendly distance, sharing and stealing quick glances and the occasional brush of warm skin. Their friends had mostly ceased teasing, since they had all lost their bet by now, only awarding their carefully guarded behavior with rolls of their eyes or poorly concealed chuckles or occasionally snide remarks.

Sometimes, Cloud and Tifa wouldn’t even go anywhere to spend the day together, content to spend their time on the phone, sometimes watching the same movie on the same channel while bantering through commentary with each other, sometimes sharing in the mundanities and highlights of their lives, Tifa always eager to share while Cloud was always eager to listen. For Tifa, his ear on the other end of the line was a beam of support, especially as her final semester drew closer to its end and she knew that she would have to deal with her father’s outrageous expectations soon.

This Sunday, though, Cloud had sent Tifa a text in the morning, asking her if she wanted to come over and watch _The Wizard of Oz_. It would be the first time she’d ever been to his apartment, and she overthought the implications of it completely, wondering if it meant that he wanted something more from their friendship.

No, no. He was inviting her over to watch a movie from their childhood, one that he remembered that she had wanted to see again. It was a sweet thing to do, but it didn’t mean that he felt anything more than what he’d made obvious.

It was a little disappointing, all of it had grown more disappointing as the days stretched into November, but Tifa pushed her thoughts about it away. Her friendship with Cloud was important to her, sacred even, and she really didn’t have time for another relationship right now, with her graduation approaching and the prospect of being forced into a job with Shinra Capitol while dealing with her father’s stranglehold over her life.

She dressed simply and comfortably, slate-gray yoga pants with a plush, matching zip-up hoodie, piling her hair into a sloppy bun on the top of her head before pulling her sneakers on. As she was gathering her coat by the foyer, Aerith appeared in the hallway, holding an armful of folders.

“Going out?” she asked, eyeing her up and down. 

“Just to Cloud’s,” Tifa replied, not bothering to look up, not wanting her eyes or her cheeks to betray her under Aerith’s knowing stare. She hastily buttoned her peacoat. “Just to watch a movie for a couple of hours.”

“Is it a sleepover?” Aerith asked with a laugh in her voice, eyeing the soft knit fabric of Tifa’s yoga gear.

Tifa pointedly ignored her, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “And you? I’m surprised to see you staying in today.”

Aerith gestured to the stack in her arms. “I’m way behind on grading and lesson planning,” she told her. “Besides, Zack has some cop training thing to do today. It’s giving me some time to get caught up. I might even take a nap!”

“Sounds like fun,” Tifa laughed, reaching for her keys.

“Listen, Tifa,” Aerith was stepping closer to her, shifting the papers against her hip. Up close, Tifa could see the sparkling cuts of jade set deep against the dark green in her irises. “Are you sure there’s really nothing happening between you and Cloud?”

Tifa sighed, shaking her head and looking down at where she held her keys in hand. There was nothing teasing in Aerith’s tone, her voice was serious and concerned, probing for information, and ready to strike with advice. Which was _way_ worse than her taunting.

“We’re friends, Aerith,” Tifa responded in a clipped tone.

Aerith pursed her lips together, considering her words, turning them over in her head and then making a face like she was not buying them at all. “It doesn’t seem that way from where I’m standing, Tifa. I just want you to follow your heart. Don’t worry about what other people think, and don’t worry about taking a risk. I think he’d be good for you.”

“He’s not interested in me like that,” Tifa declared, and hearing the words tumble past her lips broke her up inside a little bit. “Besides, I don’t have time for a relationship right now, Aerith. You saw how distracting Rude was for me.”

“Hmm,” was Aerith’s hum in response, a skeptical sound that she emitted with a roll of her shoulders. 

“I’ll see you later,” Tifa bade her, and made her way through the door, out onto Brooklyn’s cold, crisp street before Aerith could find a way to prolong the conversation.

She crossed Sterling briskly, feeling the winds nip at her cheeks. November was already frigid, heralding the advent of the winter season and the quickly approaching holidays. When she made it to the other side of the block, she entered Cloud’s apartment complex, waiting by the front desk to be buzzed up.

Cloud lived on the fifth floor, and she took the elevator up, having a difficult time understanding why her stomach was rolling with so many nervous butterflies. She’d spent plenty of time with Cloud over the last few weeks, and nothing had transpired that should make her feel like there was anything out of the ordinary between them. Maybe it had something to do with the idea of being inside of his apartment alone with him, but Tifa knew that Cloud was respectful, that he wouldn’t do anything to breach the lines of their friendship. Besides, she had convinced herself that despite the deep, burning feelings that lived inside of her, Cloud did not think about her that way, and that their friendship stood the same between them as it always had.

When she arrived at the apartment, Cloud appeared at the door just a few moments after she’d knocked, he too dressed casually in heather gray sweats and a black pullover hoodie. His hair was floppy and mussed, an arrangement of gentle golden spikes that framed his narrow, boyish face.

Tifa stared at him from her place in the threshold, drinking in the blue of his eyes, which were slightly shadowed. The hallway of his apartment complex was poorly lit, and his apartment was dark behind him, making it difficult for her to see anything.

“Hey, Teef.”

His greeting rolled over her in a complicated, twisted wave, his eyes first on her face but then searching her body and landing at her feet. Seeing a pair of boots by the doorway, Tifa slid out of her shoes before stepping into his living room.

“Heya.” Her hands came to fidget at her sides. “Is Zack home?” she asked, already knowing the answer but needing something to say.

“Nah,” Cloud responded, making room for her to enter. Tifa stepped through the doorway, unbuttoning her jacket. Without waiting, Cloud had his hand out.

“I got it,” he said gesturing for her jacket, and she felt his fingers accidentally graze her upper arm when he reached for it, causing her cheeks to grow warm.

“Thanks.”

She waited while he took her coat away, and when he returned, she couldn’t help noticing that his eyes seemed low lidded, that his stare seemed to drift from her face and settle on the lower half of her body, hovering somewhere beyond her hips. He caught himself, though, and looked back up at her face.

“You want something to drink?” he finally asked her, and Tifa just shrugged. 

“Do you have any wine?” she asked timidly, thinking it was the only thing that could calm her nerves. “Or water is fine.”

Cloud nodded at her, and she swore she could see the way the blue in his eyes shifted through hues, aqua darkening to zaffre. 

“Let me check. You can sit,” he gestured to the couch.

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Tifa sighed audibly, sinking against the couch and trying to ignore the tingling between her thighs that the look in his eyes had produced. The spot she settled into was already warm, alerting her to the fact that he’d been sitting there before she arrived. Something about knowing that heated her up even further inside, and she curled her legs up under her on the couch.

Cloud returned moments later with an apologetic look on his face, two glasses and a bottle in hand. He placed all of it on the coffee table in front of her.

“We don’t have much wine,” he muttered, gesturing to the bottle. His eyes scanned over her, lingering, and Tifa felt the pulse between her legs again. “I hope this is alright. It’s a really cheap red.”

“It’s fine,” she agreed, but her voice escaped in a whisper.

He nodded, tearing his eyes from her as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle and set to pouring. Tifa turned away, not wanting to watch him too closely, not wanting to see the way the cords in his neck pulled or the way his hair swept soft and yellow across his forehead every time he moved.

He settled next to her on the couch, maintaining a respectable distance, but not one that was so far that she couldn’t catch the scent of his aftershave and whatever else he used in his hygienic routine, a scent that was clean and crisp and woodsy, like the pine trees that she vaguely remembered outlining their favorite park in Breckenridge. He sighed softly beside her, and Tifa couldn’t help but squish her thighs together as he reached for the remote.

“Where did you find the movie?” she asked when he kept silent, watching as he turned the television on and flicked through some of its settings.

“Wasn’t on any of the streaming services,” he told her, “So I ordered the DVD from Amazon.”

He was staring straight ahead as he spoke, his profile stern and angular as he navigated to the DVD’s settings and queued up the movie. Even though he had said it as casually as if he’d mentioned what he’d had for breakfast that morning, Tifa felt warmed over by the idea that he’d actually purchased the DVD for them to watch.

She didn’t mention the impression this left on her, though, instead settling into the cushions of the couch as he leaned back, watching the lion roar as the Metro Goldwyn-Meyer emblem appeared on screen, heralding the start of the film. Cloud leaned back as well, inches away from her, always the space between galaxies living between them.

The movie began with Dorothy ambling through her black and white life, only to stumble and awaken in a magical dreamworld that was splashed full of bright hues and filled with equally colorful characters. Tifa was aware of the sound of her heartbeat the entire time she watched, aware of the tiny puffs of her breath as she breathed as silently as she could muster, aware of every time Cloud shifted in his seat beside her.

Eventually, as the movie played on, Cloud leaned in her direction, harmlessly stretching his arm over the top of the couch, reaching slightly behind her head. Watching as Dorothy and her friends skipped down the yellow brick road, soon stopping at a field of poppies where they collapsed in delirium, Tifa smiled and chuckled low under her breath, and she felt herself sliding closer to Cloud, just barely letting the side of her head touch his shoulder when she leaned in his direction.

Tifa wasn’t aware that the wine, combined with the week’s exhaustion, had crept into her bones, gently pulsating her into a quiet slumber, her head against Cloud’s arm as she fell into a peaceful sleep. She hadn’t even realized that she’d fallen under until she felt her body being jostled softly, the sound of her name floating in the ether above her head.

“Tifa? Tifa, wake up.”

She stirred, shaking her head out and blinking, slowly leaning away from where she was pressed against him. She could still catch his fresh, earthy scent in her nostrils even when she backed away, and she glanced up at him, running the knuckles of both hands under her eyes to dispel the sleep that had seized her.

“Hmm?” she murmured, genuinely perplexed.

“Your phone,” Cloud said, pointing to where her device lay on his coffee table, and she noticed that for some reason, his cheeks were uncharacteristically pink. He had paused the movie, but it appeared that it was almost over, anyway. “It rang a bunch of times. I wanted to let you sleep, but it kept ringing.”

She smiled at him, suddenly enamored by his thoughtfulness, and she picked up her phone to glance at the display. As soon as she saw the succession of missed calls across the screen, topped off by one simple text message, she felt her heart sink to the bottom of her chest, and she leaned back against Cloud’s couch.

**_Dad:_ ** _Call me._

Tifa inhaled deeply. Her father had called her four times in a row. Either there was a serious emergency, or he was ready to drop another bombshell on her, expecting her complicity in his machinations over her life. She suspected the latter.

“Tifa?” Cloud’s voice was quiet and tentative, but edged over with concern, as if he knew that something was unspooling inside of her at that very moment. “Is everything alright?”

She shook her head, still staring at her phone’s screen. “It’s fine. It’s just… just my dad.”

She turned to look at him, finding his blue eyes glowing and gleaming bright, and suddenly she was desperate to lean into him and wrap her arms around him, hoping he would hold her back, crushing her to him as they both absorbed each other’s warmth and strength.

Instead, they both remained stationary, the gravitational pull of the stars keeping them separated, two magnets with negative polarity.

“It’s getting late,” she said, suddenly stifled by his presence, by his scent and his sparkling cerulean eyes and his soft, flaxen hair and by the imprint of his dick that she could see in his gray sweats. She was overcome by the magnificence of his design, but also stricken by his cool seriousness, by the way he remained as stiff and in control as a statue the entire evening. “I should get going.”

“Uh…you don’t need a break?” he asked her. “You seemed pretty tired. You can crash here, if you want.”

Tifa felt her mouth spreading into a tiny smile at the thought of laying in Cloud’s bed, curled up next to him with his arms around her.

“I’m fine,” she responded, shaking her head gently. “I need to call my dad, and take care of a few things at home tonight.”

Cloud nodded, and moments later, Tifa’d gathered her coat and put her sneakers back on, Cloud walking her to the door. Before she made for the elevators, she turned to him, and, without thinking, leaned in and gave him a hug.

It took a moment for him to reciprocate, but when he did, his arms came around her, strong and tight. She meant it to be a friendly gesture, the way she sometimes hugged Aerith or Jessie or Barret when they parted ways, if she was feeling especially affectionate. But with Cloud, the feeling was different, and she was startled by the warmth behind his embrace, by the way her body instantly reacted, electricity boiling up her blood and sending white-hot sparks to each nerve ending as they awakened, seeking release.

“Thanks for the movie, Cloud,” she told him, despairing at how her voice quivered when they finally broke apart. “I’ll text you later.”

He nodded at her, backing up into the doorway, his exterior exuding a calm coolness. She wondered how he managed it.

“Night, Teef.” 

Across the street, Tifa sat on her front steps, holding her phone in her hands. She didn’t want to go upstairs and take her father’s call inside, with Aerith hovering nearby and the walls of their apartment caging her in. And aside from that, she needed a moment to cool off and air out her feelings after having the warmth of Cloud’s embrace against her body, after waking up to the firmness of his shoulder under her temple, after feeling inundated by his clean, masculine scent for most of the night.

Sighing after a moment of sitting in the cool darkness, Tifa opened her father’s contact, hesitating for a second before pressing send. He answered on the third ring.

“Tifa,” his crisp baritone pierced through the receiver, calm but serious. “I didn’t think you were working tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” she told him, suppressing the urge to sigh with frustration. “I was with a friend.”

He let out a hum in response, a sound that was laced with consideration, as if he were about to share an opinion about what she had said. Instead, he continued, “You aren’t working tomorrow night, either?”

“I’m off on Mondays.”

“Excellent,” he responded, and Tifa couldn’t avoid the way that her body stiffened. “Five thirty, we are having dinner with the Shinras at the Four Seasons tomorrow.”

Tifa felt a wave of anxiety ripple over her, her fingers tightening their grip on her phone at her ear. She was now very grateful that she had chosen to remain outside to take this call, desperately needing to inhale fresh air.

When she failed to respond immediately, her father simply continued. “I expect you to dress conservatively. You know the atmosphere of the Four Seasons. And it’s important that you make a good impression, particularly on the President.”

Tifa’s mind began to race as she tried to fashion a response, her knee beginning its side to side buckle again. Her heart was hammering loudly in her chest, a drumbeat that was pushing the anxiety up into her throat.

“Tifa?”

“I’m here,” she finally spoke, and suddenly, she felt so tired again, resigned to her fate. “What is the nature of this meeting, Dad?”

“They simply want to meet you, Tifa,” Brian replied. “You’ve already got the job, of course. And it isn’t just on account of me, I’ll have you know. President Shinra is well acquainted with many of Columbia’s top business professors, and they had wonderful things to say about you, so I’m told.”

“Great,” Tifa responded, enthusiasm lacking in her voice.

Brian paused for a moment, seeming aware of the trepidation in her tone. “This is an opportunity to get to know them, particularly Rufus Shinra, who you will be working closely with. I am sure they’ll have plenty of questions about your studies, and how you plan to be an asset to the Company.”

But Tifa _didn’t_ plan to be an asset to the Company.

“I only ask that you are prepared for that sort of conversation,” her father continued. “And that you be yourself. Of course, I’ll be right there at your side.”

She instantly hated the softness in her father’s voice, as if he were ripping her heart out where she sat, determining her life and making her choices for her beneath a pillowy caress and a smile. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind kick up her hair around her and brush it into her face.

There was no sake in arguing about this, she knew. The best she could do was amble her way through the motions, to get through what he asked of her and to ignore the stab of pain it dragged inside of her heart.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” was all she said in response.

* * *

Tifa lay in bed wide awake almost the entire night, finally falling into a fitful sleep around five in the morning. Three hours later, she gave up, rising and stretching, only to sit on the edge of her bed and hang her head in her hands, dreading the events that the course of the evening would tear her through.

Her anxiety was so thick that she abandoned her morning run and even skipped her classes, instead sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, watching the steam rise as her thoughts raced and spun. Aerith had already left for the day, and sitting alone in their apartment felt suffocating as she thought over and over again about how she would get through this dinner tonight and how she would get through her life now that her father had already planned its entirety.

She stared at her phone, sitting beside her on the kitchen table. She had half a mind to text Cloud, but it was too early, and what would she say, anyway? He already knew about her predicament with her father, and his opinion on the matter had been that she should do what she wanted with her own life. That hadn’t been entirely helpful, because Tifa knew that she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t strong enough.

Instead, Tifa lifted her phone and opened her browser, typing Rufus Shinra’s name into Google’s search bar. She had been avoiding looking him up, but now, she couldn’t resist the temptation to at least get a glimpse of the man she would be meeting that night and working for in the coming weeks.

The display instantly brought up a cache of paparazzi photos of Rufus, who Tifa learned was disastrously handsome, tall, and well-groomed. He was blond, his hair a more honeyed platinum than Cloud’s, pale and combed close to his skull in a neat coif, with the exception of a few thick locks that spilled across his forehead. In nearly every photo, he was wearing some shade of white or pale gray, and it seemed he was never caught in a photo wearing anything that was less casual than a three-piece suit. 

It was his eyes, though, that she found most striking, most unnerving. They were a pale, icy blue, so light she almost could not make out their shade in the photographs. Their coloring gave him a haunting look, as if he were staring right through her soul from every picture.

There were a few articles about him in _Forbes_ and _The Wall Street Journal_ , mostly about his appointment as Shinra’s new Vice President, but Tifa didn’t bother to read them, already stricken by the fact that she was being forced to work for him. She let her phone clatter back to the kitchen table, holding her head in her hands.

She moved through the rest of the morning and afternoon in a thick haze, unable to concentrate on anything, her dread building the closer the clock wore on. Around four, she finally showered and began to get ready for the evening, dressing in a simple, lace-necked, black A-line cocktail dress, her legs wrapped in sheer nylons and her hair pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of her skull. She took her time applying her make up in the mirror, staring at her reflection, wondering who was staring back at her, feeling like she was beginning to not recognize herself at all.

Aerith had just gotten home as she was preparing to leave, unpacking her school work on the dining room table. She stood up straight when she saw Tifa drift out of her bedroom in her dress.

“That is fancy,” she remarked at once. “Is Cloud taking you somewhere special on a Monday night?”

Tifa felt her cheeks warm, even though the thought filled her with a sudden sadness. “No, I’m afraid not. I have a business dinner with my father.”

“A business dinner?” Aerith repeated, crossing over to her with her hands clasped in front of her.

“He got me a job at Shinra,” Tifa finally admitted. It was the first time she had spoken about her new reality out loud, aside from her conversations with Cloud. Aerith’s eyebrow immediately shot up.

“You don’t sound very happy about it, Tifa,” Aerith replied quietly.

“I’m supposed to start in January, right after my degree is conferred,” Tifa responded, and she wondered idly if she stopped going to class and failed the rest of this semester, if she could delay the inevitable. “There really isn’t much to say about it, Aerith. It’s what I went to school for.”

Aerith nodded, offering her a little smile, but her eyes betrayed that she was unconvinced. “I suppose you’re right. I had just assumed you would work with AVALANCHE. Jessie talks about how they are strapped for cash all of the time. It seems like Barret could use your financial sense.”

Tifa didn’t say anything, just made for the foyer to retrieve her coat. She really didn’t want to talk about this. Just the mention of Barret and AVALANCHE was sending tiny cracks across the surface of her heart.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Tifa wished her friend goodbye, disappearing down the stairs.

Brian Lockhart was already waiting outside for her in his black town car, escorted by his own personal chauffeur. The driver was at the rear passenger door as Tifa descended the steps, holding the door open for her.

As she slid into the back seat, her father was seated against the far window, swathed in a three-piece, black and gray suit, his full head of dark hair combed back and slick, his mustache trimmed neatly above his lips. She offered him a small smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes as she folded her hands in her lap.

“Nice choice of dress,” he complimented her, and Tifa only nodded, her fingers nervously dancing and twirling over her clutch.

The ride Downtown was mostly silent, Tifa staring out of the window and watching Brooklyn’s gritty facade shift into the sparkling spires and bright lights of Manhattan. Brian occasionally peppered the air with conversation, feeding Tifa with tidbits of information about President Shinra and his son, Rufus. Shinra had started the company thirty years ago, building the investment bank into one of the largest and most successful on all of Wall Street, a firm that held the accounts of many large public and private institutions as well as a diverse portfolio of high profile, wealthy clients. Rufus, who was twenty-eight years old and a graduate of the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, had recently been promoted to the VP position, placing him adjacent to Tifa’s father in the organization, though while Brian oversaw most of the investment and financial portfolios directly, Rufus would come to have broad supervision of the firm’s overall operations.

All of this information went in one ear and out the other for Tifa, her mind drifting somewhere else, unable to summon the interest to engage in the conversation. It seemed her father took her silence for acquiesce, because by the time they arrived at the Four Seasons, he was smiling smugly at her, looking rather pleased as he offered her his arm so that they could walk inside together.

At one point during the ride, just as they had climbed over the Brooklyn Bridge, Tifa’s phone buzzed inside of her clutch. She retrieved it to see a new text message on the screen.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hey._

**_Tifa:_ ** _Hey_

**_Cloud:_ ** _You want to come over? Zack’s at work, and I got a couple more DVDs._

Tifa almost moaned out her sigh of despair, wanting nothing more than to turn around and tear off this ridiculous dress and curl up next to Cloud on his couch, watching movies with him late into the night. She angled her body away from her father as she typed her response, not wanting him to accidentally catch her screen.

**_Tifa:_ ** _I wish, but I can’t tonight. Date with my dad. Can we rain check?_

**_Cloud:_ ** _Sure._

**_Tifa:_ ** _I’ll text you when I get home_

The Four Seasons was one of the largest luxury five-star hotels in Downtown Manhattan, a popular choice in leisure and accommodations for the wealthiest of New Yorkers and tourists who came into town to visit for one reason or another. It offered a wide array of dining options, and Tifa realized as she walked with her father through the hotel’s massive, chandelier-laden halls, that they would be eating at its very exclusive steakhouse.

Of course, it was the sort of place that required reservations well in advance, and as soon as Brian gave his name, a maître d was leading them deeper into the restaurant, through cream-colored walls and dark burgundy carpeting against low yellow lighting and floor to ceiling windows that sparkled with the city’s life outside. Eventually, they stopped at a table where the President and his son were already waiting for them.

“Brian,” Shinra was instantly at his feet, a cigar in one hand as he extended a hand in greeting to her father. He turned to her next. “Ah, this must be Ms. Lockhart.”

President Shinra was tall and broad-shouldered, blond like his son with the same harrowing pale blue eyes, dressed in an elegant, dark plum pinstriped suit. He appeared to be at least a decade older than her father.

Rising to his feet at his side, was Rufus Shinra.

In person, his beauty was even more breathtaking than the snapshots Tifa had scoured on the internet that morning. Up close, he was a refined specimen of a man, tall and slender yet well-built, an angular jaw and romanesque nose, lips that were neither too thin nor too full but struck the perfect balance, utterly kissable, smooth and pale pink. His skin was creamy and flawless, and his silvery yellow hair spilled across his forehead in a perfectly coiffed tumble. He was wearing white again, only this time the vest beneath his blazer was a deep shade of dark lilac, providing a gentle contrast that seemed to refract and make his skin glow.

His eyes were on her instantly, and she watched those cornflower blue depths slide over her, drinking her in from head to toe before they narrowed and returned devilishly to her face, leaving her feeling unmasked and completely bared naked as their eyes met.

“Yes, this is my daughter, Tifa,” Brian was gesturing, and at the sound of his voice, Tifa snapped her attention away from Rufus and turned to his father and his outstretched hand. She seized it, offering him a firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“A pleasure,” Shinra said, before turning to Brian with a quirked eyebrow and a nod, as if offering him his approval at the presentation of her. This gesture did not go unnoticed by Tifa, and it made her feel hot around the neck with a sudden flare of anger, as if she was being offered here as some kind of trophy or gift.

Shinra had turned to his son now, and Rufus was moving around the table, coming closer to her, and she almost wanted to step back and run from the way he was approaching.

“This is my son, Rufus,” Shinra said, but already Tifa could detect his cologne, a heady blend of blackcurrant and white birch that made her suddenly dizzy, he moved so close. She extended her hand again by default, and Rufus’ palms were too soft and too smooth when he took hers in both hands. She was stunned when he bent down and pressed his lips against her the top of her hand instead of shaking it, his shock of yellow hair tumbling across his forehead.

“Such a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Lockhart,” Rufus greeted as he straightened and pulled away from her. “Your father has shared so many wonderful things about you, I feel like I know you already.”

His voice was much, much deeper than she had anticipated, smooth with the aristocratic lilt of a native New Yorker who had grown up on the Upper East Side. Tifa’s hand was burning at the spot his lips had touched, and she only nodded carefully at his words, feeling her cheeks flare. His stare was so intense, and he didn’t seem intent on taking his eyes from her. She watched as the focus of his gaze dropped to the neckline of her dress, before hovering somewhere above her breasts.

Shinra and her father were both taking their seats now, and Rufus eventually pulled his eyes off of her to do the same. Feeling branded by his stare, Tifa tried to dispel the manic, disruptive thoughts that were running through her mind, triggered simply by his proximity.

She slid into a chair at the table next to her father, across from Rufus, which didn’t help her trembling hands or the slamming of her heart against her ribcage. She inhaled quietly through her lips, reaching at once for her glass of water and draining a small sip, hoping its coolness would extinguish some of the confusing flames that were rising inside of her. She hated the way that she was reacting, as if her body was responding without her brain’s consent. Rufus watched her as she settled into her seat, never once taking his eyes off of her.

Mercifully, the Shinra men liked to talk, mostly about themselves, leaving Tifa to sip her water and poke at her food when it eventually arrived, mostly in silence at her father’s side. The conversation began with small talk between Shinra and Brian about recent investments and the performance of certain stocks, talk that Tifa understood perfectly well but was utterly bored by. Whenever she looked up, she found Rufus’ frosty blue stare on her, and she realized that his lips had turned up into a seemingly permanent smirk as he watched her, sipping on a glass of cabernet sauvignon.

Eventually, he was pulled into the conversation, discussion about his new role as the Vice President of Shinra Capitol, and Tifa was mercied that it dragged his attention away from her. She learned that Rufus thought very highly of himself and did not seem to shy away from the fact that he was very accomplished. He turned back to her with a smug smirk, and his blue eyes glittered under the low lighting of the restaurant as he informed her that just a couple of months ago, he had been listed on Forbe’s _30 Under 30_ list. 

“Have you seen that issue, Ms. Lockhart?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair, holding his glass of red casually up in front of him.

“I don’t really read _Forbes_ ,” Tifa replied without thinking, and her father shot her a dangerous look at her side. Yet Rufus only laughed, a rich, smooth sound, genuinely amused by her response.

“It is rather dull,” he agreed, and Tifa tried not to return his smile too vividly.

By the time their plates had been cleared away, Rufus’ father had turned the conversation to Tifa, which she had dreaded but knew eventually was coming.

“How are your MBA studies going, dear?” he asked her, now with his own glass of wine in hand. Tifa had been carefully sipping on a glass of chardonnay, needing it only to tamp down her nerves and the heat that constantly flared in her veins every time Rufus Shinra stole another glance at her or tilted his smirk in her direction. Clearing her throat quietly, Tifa sat up straighter and looked at President Shinra.

“I graduate in January,” she told him, keeping her voice perfectly crisp and neutral. As badly as she didn’t want to be here, as much as she hated all of this, she didn’t want to embarrass her father and further strain their relationship. In the end, she truly did want to please him, so that they could be close the way that they had been once before, happier times before her mother had died, even if it did mean she had to sacrifice her happiness to achieve it. “This is my last semester. I will say it is a very rigorous but excellent program.”

“Indeed,” Shinra agreed, lowering his chalice back to the table. “I know quite a few of the professors in that program. Many of them were former brokers. McDuffy, in fact, worked for me many years ago. He spoke very highly of you, Ms. Lockhart. He said you were very bright, with excellent strategical sense.”

Tifa could only nod, feeling a tiny smile emerge that she had not expected at the praise. McDuffy was her Financial Strategy professor, she had taken both levels of that course with him over two years. Even though finance did not spur her passions, she did feel good about herself knowing that others thought she excelled at it.

“He is one of my favorite professors,” she rejoined.

“Your father tells me that you have a background in psychology as well?” Shinra continued.

Tifa nodded, feeling her nerves ricochet again. She was nervous about talking about this, considering how strongly her father felt about her undergraduate choices, how much tension her defiance had introduced into their relationship.

“Yes. I was really interested in working with the public at one point, either in a hospital or perhaps a private practice.”

She noticed that Rufus had dropped his chin to rest on his fist, still leaning back in his seat with his elbow at the edge of the table, still openly admiring her as he listened from where he sat.

“Ah,” Shinra conceded, leaning forward over the table. “Well, such expertise will certainly be valuable in your new role at the Company. Not only will you be helping Rufus with financial strategy, but your work as his personal performance coach will be perhaps your greatest asset.”

At the word “personal”, Tifa noticed that Rufus’ smirk had graduated into a full-blown simper, and that he tilted his head away from his fist to get a look at her from a different angle.

Brian shot Tifa a harsh look, and she did her best to avoid pursing her lips into a thin, angry line, instead nodding at the President, avoiding looking back at Rufus again.

“I am looking forward to it,” she finally relented, miserable but steady enough to be convincing.

The night eventually ended, and the four of them rose after the check had been cleared. Tifa could feel the exhaustion of the night settling deep into her bones, reaching her spine. It hadn’t been a particularly arduous affair, in fact, the Shinras had been tolerable, if not a little arrogant and full of themselves. But it was the fact that she had been propping up a front, wearing a falsified version of herself all night that had her breaking away into despairing fatigue.

Just as they made their way to the sidewalk outside of the Four Season, waiting for Shinra’s limo and Brian’s town car, Rufus came up beside her, one hand in his pocket as he turned to face her.

She was suddenly aware of how tall he was, statuesque and nearly perfect, his hair shimmering under the streetlights and the glitters of the nearby skyscrapers.

“Tifa,” it was the first time he’d used her first name all night, and it rolled off of his tongue like thunder, rendering her still. “Is it okay if I call you that?”

“It’s my name,” she found herself shooting back, unsure of where the fire was coming from.

He chuckled, tossing his head from side to side, shifting those locks of blond hair that tumbled across his forehead. “Of course. “ He was withdrawing his cell phone from his pocket, handing it to her. “Save your number in my phone. I know you aren’t starting until January, but there’s plenty for us to discuss in the meantime.”

Somehow, he’d come even closer, and his scent was once again strangling her, his frigid blue eyes impaling her.

Brian had turned away from his conversation with Shinra just a few paces away, and was watching her interaction with Rufus carefully. Tifa was fully aware of the depth of her father’s stare. Aggrieved and unnerved, Tifa accepted Rufus’s phone, cool in her hand, and carefully began to type her number into the blank contact.

_This means nothing. It’s to make daddy happy. Eventually, you’ll figure a way out of all of this._

After she stored her number, she calmly handed the phone back to Rufus. He accepted, glanced down at its screen, then tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“I’ll text you, Tifa,” he said then, his voice far too low, his baritone far too deep. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance tonight.”

She could only nod, refusing and unable to verbalize her assent. She watched him then turn and drift away, following his father into the black stretch limousine that had pulled up to the curb.

The entire ride home in her father’s town car, Tifa remained silent, her feelings abuzz with apprehension inside of her. She spoke only when absolutely necessary, replying to Brian’s comments and observations about the success of the evening. He seemed to think that things had gone rather well, that she had shown a good face to the Company’s top brass and her future employers, though he thought she could stand to talk a little more. Tifa wanted to slam her head against the glass of the window as she watched them crawl back into the urban grayness of Brooklyn.

The night was running into a blur when Brian’s car finally dropped her off at her brownstone, and Tifa climbed the steps after saying goodnight to her father, weary with lead in her bones. She was grateful that Aerith was already locked away in her own bedroom for the night and would not be chancing to flitter about and pester her with questions.

As soon as she entered her room, she sank into the mattress, laying back and staring up at the ceiling, still in her fancy dress from the night. Everything was spinning and swimming around her, an unfortunate blend of anxiety and unease that was revealed in the shadows of her new reality. 

Tifa didn’t realize that she’d fallen asleep in her dress and her makeup and her heels until bright the next morning. 

* * *

It was early the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and Cloud was once again caught up with distraction, unable to concentrate even on reading, let alone writing anything of his own, finding his mind drifting to other places in turbulence every time he tried.

Ever since the night when Tifa’d come over to watch _The Wizard of Oz_ with him, his mind had been wrapped in a thick, perplexed haze. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about her cute, pretty face, about her body and its endless highways of steep, winding curves, wrapped in the soft, elastic fabric of her yoga gear, urging him to wrap his palm around the firm curve of her ass to give it a gentle squeeze. He couldn’t take his mind off of the way her hair had been bunched up in a messy knot on the top of her head, long tendrils drifting down into her face and against her neck, begging him to rake his fingers through them. He couldn’t let go of the fact that she had drifted silently to sleep beside him, dropping her head to his shoulder as she curled up on his couch with her knees to her chest, inviting him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close as she rested peacefully beside him. 

And he couldn’t get over the fact that she’d reached out and hugged him tight, making him want to lean in and press his lips to her throat.

Yet Cloud hadn’t been able to respond in any of those ways, instead had remained locked up in a tight, stoic rod at her side on the couch, behaving as if her very presence, the scent of her shampoo and the lotion rubbed into her skin, wasn’t setting him on fire.

There was nothing he could do about it, though. He was frozen in place, unable to act, terrified of betraying his feelings and laying ruin to his carefully constructed friendship with Tifa. Although she was warm and kind to him, Cloud knew that meant nothing. Tifa was warm and kind to everyone. He had seen her bright and caring good nature on display countless times with her friends and others in their community. Even though they had begun to spend more time together, had shared conversations late into the night that bordered on intimacy, Cloud didn’t see any indication at all that she felt anything more for him than the friendship that he’d grown so protective over.

Still, he realized that it didn’t make his own feelings any less complicated or impactful, that it didn’t tear the weight of them off of his chest. He still thought about her in ways that he knew he shouldn’t, seeing her in his dreams, trapped beneath him with her eyes and mouth open wide in pleasure as he poured himself into her.

None of his ruminations over Tifa helped other parts of his life, either. He was still blocked in his writing, unable to get more than a few words onto the page at a time, none of them landing with any particular coherence. And to his great dismay, most of what he did manage to write failed to match his intentions - more and more he found himself writing about death and destruction, about evil and despair and greed, images painted from the desperate memories and flashbacks that were still haunting him from his past, dark desert nights on the opposite side of the world that were filled with the tatters of gunfire and the scatterings of shell casings and the detonation of IEDs that sent fragments of shrapnel into bloodied skin.

As that thought was leaving him, his phone rang, and he was surprised to see the incoming call was from his mother.

“Hey, mom.”

“Cloud! How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m okay.” Cloud suddenly felt a wash of guilt descend over him, realizing that he hadn’t phoned home to his mother since he’d first moved to New York. “How are you doing?”

He heard his mother inhale deeply, as if she were trying to capture her breath. “Oh, I am doing okay, love. It’s been a little lonely here, of course, but Linda Peterson comes by often. She has a wonderful garden, even at this time of year, she is still managing to grow vegetables.”

“That’s nice, mom.”

“Any chance you might come to visit me soon?”

Cloud flopped back on the couch, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back towards the ceiling. “Maybe. I’ve just gotten settled in here. And the tickets are really expensive this time of year.”

His mother made a clicking sound, just as she began to cough.

“Mom? Are you alright?” Cloud didn’t like the sounds she was making at all.

“The air is thin up here, sweetie, you know that,” she responded after a while. “It’s always been difficult for me to breathe. So, tell me about New York.”

Cloud didn’t think there was much to tell, his job was boring as hell, the city wasn’t exactly his aesthetic, and he hadn’t accomplished much since he’d been here. There was one thing, though.

“Um, hey. You remember Tifa Lockhart?”

His mother gasped. “Why, yes of course! What a lovely girl. Her mother was one of my dearest friends. It was awful when she passed away.”

“Yeah,” Cloud agreed, running his fingers through his hair. His cheeks were warm, and he didn’t know why. Why did he feel so suddenly embarrassed talking to his mother about Tifa? “Well, you remember that she moved out here, right? I ran into her. She lives across the street from me.”

“Oh, how wonderful! I imagine she must have grown into a beautiful woman.”

_You have no idea_ , Cloud thought. 

“She was always such a sweet girl, and very bright, too. Just like her mother,” Claudia continued. “She was so mature for her age. The right kind of girl for you to settle down with, you know? Someone who can take care of you. She always seemed so nurturing, that girl.”

“I don’t know,” Cloud fumbled in response.

“I worry about you, you know,” his mother went on. “Alone in that big city, so many temptations. I’d feel much better if you settled down with a nice girl like her.”

“I’m fine, mom.”

“Of course you are, sweetie.”

After hanging up with his mother, promising to call her again before Christmas, Cloud sat in silence on the couch, her words echoing in his ear. His mother had been right about one thing. Tifa was definitely nurturing. He could see it behind the passion of her advocacy work, in the way she cared for and doted on her friends, even in the way that she sacrificed so much of her free time for others, offering to babysit Barret’s daughter or teach free classes at Zangan’s dojo. 

What he wasn’t sure about was what place he really took up in her life, but he was certain it wasn’t the way that his mother thought it could be.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Heya! Any chance you can get out of work this afternoon?_

Cloud shook himself out of his thoughts to glance down at his phone, seeing her text message illuminate the screen. He hated the way that his heart started to rise in tempo just at the sight of her name and its accompanying blue heart alone.

**_Cloud:_ ** _What’s up?_

**_Tifa:_ ** _AVALANCHE is having a Thanksgiving food drive in Bensonhurst, and we could use some extra help_

**_Tifa:_ ** _plus drinks with the crew afterward!_

Cloud stared at his phone, a little unsure about that last part. Still, the idea of spending the afternoon with Tifa was much more appealing than sitting encased behind his glass booth at work, watching trucks deliver energy supplies and equipment at odd intervals throughout the night. 

**_Cloud:_ ** _I’ll see what I can do._

**_Tifa:_ ** _You’re the best! I’ll text you the address_

Cloud sighed, sending a few texts to some coworkers to make arrangements for a swap in shifts before he rose to shower and dress for the afternoon. Tifa texted him the address of a shelter in Bensonhurst, which was actually built into an old church that was deep in the center of the neighborhood.

He tried to clear his mind of the intertwining thoughts that continued to assail his skull, a combination of his deep-seated desire for Tifa and his overwhelming feelings of inertia and inadequacy in his own personal life as he made his way through Brooklyn’s gray and brick-red neighborhoods. Departing the subway station, it didn’t take long for him to find the old church that housed the shelter he was looking for, especially since one of AVALANCHE’s bright green trucks was parked outside, a small crowd gathered in front of the building.

“Well, look who it is,” Biggs was the first to greet him as he approached, and Cloud considered it odd to find him still dressed formally in his school clothes, a plaid button-down and a tie under his jacket, so different from his usual casual attire of dark jeans or fatigues. “Did Tifa ask you to come?”

“Yeah,” Cloud responded with a shrug.

“Barret’s got us passing out turkeys here,” Biggs informed him, gesturing to piles of cardboard boxes on the sidewalk that were filled with frozen birds. “The girls are inside with a bunch of the kids, but we could use your help out here, if you don’t mind.”

Cloud only nodded in response, and let Biggs direct him. For the next couple of hours, he worked alongside him, unloading the turkeys and other foodstuffs, packing them into smaller cardboard boxes and passing them off to families. Barret, Wedge, and Wymer also assisted, though Barret spent most of the time proselytizing to anyone who would listen, slamming his good fist into the palm of his prosthesis, extolling the failures of late-stage capitalism and AVALANCHE’s work to fight it.

“I’ve been encouraging Tifa to run for Borough President,” Cloud overheard him grumbling to a resident at one point. “I’d run myself, but I think she’s better suited for it, smart as she is. She ain’t interested, though.”

Cloud thought about that as he handed a package to a young woman with a child beside her. Tifa running for public office? He could picture her, statuesque in a tight-fitting pantsuit, her lips painted red and her hair long around her shoulders as she spoke passionately into a microphone.

Cloud could picture Tifa doing just about anything, as long as she was happy doing it.

Throughout the afternoon, Cloud spent most of his time with Biggs, and learned a lot about him as they worked side by side. For one, Biggs was passionate about his work in education and with the public. Cloud noticed that he couldn’t go very long in conversation without making some mention of the injustices his students faced simply because of their zip code or their skin color, or how his school, situated in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the borough, was constantly strapped for resources and funds. Cloud was even more stunned to learn that Biggs was fluent in both Spanish and Portuguese, his eyes widening slightly whenever he would ease his way into a conversation with a native speaking resident.

Eventually, the sky began to darken, and the crowd waned, leaving them with a slight reprieve. Wymer got into the AVALANCHE truck and departed, leaving the remaining meals on the curb for later distribution. Biggs turned to him, brushing his hands off on his jacket.

“Have you seen Tifa yet today?”

“Not yet,” Cloud admitted. He hadn’t even yet gone inside the church since he’d arrived, he’d been so busy helping with the turkeys and the meals. 

Biggs leaned against the wrought iron fence that lined the church. “She’ll be happy to see you. She’s been talking about you a lot lately.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, tipping his head back to appraise him. “Don’t mean to sound like my girlfriend, here, but… you guys still _friends_?”

Cloud sighed, really not in the mood to have this conversation again. Over the course of the last few weeks, Zack hadn’t ceased to ask about it, and anytime that they spent with Tifa’s friends, the matter was raised, despite the fact that all of them were in a deficit as far as their bet was concerned. Over and over again, Tifa reinforced their friendship, and Cloud readily agreed, and despite the time they spent together, neither of them dared venture past that boundary.

“That’s all it is,” Cloud answered simply.

Biggs folded his arms across his chest. “She told me you’re a writer.”

Cloud appreciated that Biggs wasn’t the type to dig, but he also wasn’t crazy about the turn of the conversation, either.

“Haven’t written much of anything. Kinda blocked.”

Biggs’ lips spread into a wide smile at that, and Cloud was wondering what he had said that could possibly be funny.

“Well, there are lots of ways to unblock,” he finally chuckled, just as Barret was approaching, an armful of turkeys. “I’m sure Tifa could help, if you let her.”

Cloud opened his mouth, but Barret was dumping the turkeys into his arms.

“Take these inside. We’re done out here for the night. Still got some families inside, having meals. Need those stocked up in the freezer for the week.”

Cloud only nodded, annoyed by the brusque demands but grateful for the break in conversation with Biggs. They both followed Barret inside the church, where they found the ground level had been set up to serve as a makeshift cafeteria for families seeking shelter and food. As Cloud walked the turkeys to the kitchen in the back, he spotted Tifa sitting at a table with Aerith and Jessie and a pair of children.

After stocking the freezer, he followed Biggs to their table and sat down across from Tifa, not missing the radiant smile she offered him when their eyes met. She was glowing, her lips glossy and pink again, her hair tied back behind her head in a long ponytail, her fringe spilling across her forehead.

“Cloud! I didn’t know you were here. Thanks for coming.”

“Cloud was outside with us all afternoon helping with the turkey distribution,” Biggs announced, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Cloud just shrugged, but he caught the way that Tifa’s eyes sparkled at Biggs’ words, the way her smile seemed to grow just a little more buoyant.

“We’re just short one loverboy,” Jessie commented from across the table, prompting a snicker from Aerith.

“Zack’s on his way!” She gushed, clasping her hands in front of her. “As soon as he gets here, Barret’s treating us all to drinks on the rooftop to celebrate.”

“It’s an AVALANCHE Thanksgiving tradition,” Biggs explained at Cloud’s side. “Every year after our annual turkey drive, drinks on the rooftop of the old church in Bensonhurst.”

“Sounds like fun,” Cloud remarked, and he was honestly surprised to realize that he actually meant it.

“Cloud,” Tifa interrupted, gesturing to the two children who sat between her and Aerith. “I want you to meet Marlene and Denzel. Barret’s kids.”

Cloud turned his attention to the two children, who both began to smile at him. Denzel, floppy-haired and blue-eyed, seemed a little shyer than Marlene, who instantly brightened with a smile at him.

“Hi, Cloud!” she exclaimed. “Tifa talks about you all the time! She says you’re her best, favorite friend!”

“Marlene,” Tifa hissed, her face turning red, and Cloud felt himself grow hot as well, suddenly feeling stiff and uncomfortable on the cafeteria bench.

“Tifa,” Aerith interjected, pressing her palm to her breastbone dramatically. “I am utterly wounded! I thought I was your one and only!”

Tifa let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Marlene, I said that Cloud was my oldest friend. We grew up together in Colorado.”

“I doubt that’s what she said,” Jessie’s laugh was a rich husk. “Tifa doesn’t realize some of the things she says about you when you’re not around.”

At this, Biggs nudged Cloud knowingly in the ribs with his elbow, and Cloud felt his pants tighten at the way that Tifa’s face darkened.

“What’s Colorado like?” Denzel blessedly asked.

They went on with that conversation for a while, indulging the kids in their dozens of questions until the shelter had almost fully emptied of residents and Zack had arrived at the church, still wearing his NYPD cadet uniform under his jacket. As soon as he made his way through the door, Aerith was on her feet and at his side.

“So handsome!” she exclaimed, pulling open his jacket so that everyone could see his uniform. “All mine, ladies.”

Jessie rose to her feet, coming to stand behind Biggs, wrapping her arms around his neck affectionately. “That’s fine. You’ve got the hot cop, and I’ve got the hot teacher.” She tossed a wicked glare at Tifa, hazel-brown eyes dancing with mirth. “And how bout you, Tifa? Hot security guard?”

Cloud really could not fucking stand Jessie.

“Cloud’s actually a writer,” Tifa announced, and Cloud wished the floor would swallow him up. “When he finishes his book, I’m going to be the first person who gets to read it.”

Jessie was cackling, a horrendous sound that made the insides of Cloud’s ears bleed. “Now, that _is_ hot.”

By the grace of god, Barret appeared with Gwen at his side. “Aight! Meet y’all up on the roof.” He turned his attention to Marlene and Denzel. “Marlene, Denzel, you two head home with Gwen. I’ll see ya later tonight.” Cloud watched as the towering man bent over Marlene and pressed a kiss to her forehead before ruffling Denzel’s hair.

“Okay, daddy! Don’t stay out too late!” Marlene made her way around the table to say goodbye to everyone, and Cloud noticed that when she stopped at Tifa, she gave her a particularly long hug that lingered.

When the young girl had made her way over to Cloud, she leaned into him conspiratorially. “Be nice to Tifa,” she whispered after looking back and forth, afraid one of the others might hear. “She’s been kind of sad lately. I know you’re her special friend, so maybe you can make her smile again.”

Cloud just nodded, a little awestruck as he watched Marlene skip away, wondering how the hell children managed to do shit like that.

Eventually, he followed the group up the back stairs of the old church to the roof, which was a just small, flat portion of the greater curved and angular spires of its apex. There was already an assortment of chairs and cases of beer left out, even a few bottles of spirits along with red plastic cups. From here, they had a wide-open view of Brooklyn, the tops of trees and brick buildings and houses against the dark sky that was awash with the moon’s glow.

Tifa hovered at his side, and Cloud had to resist the strong urge to reach out and touch her, especially as the breeze curled by them and he saw her shiver slightly. He sank into a folding chair and she sat beside him, and Cloud wished that he could pull her into his lap, filled with jealousy at the way Aerith fell into Zack’s arms and Jessie straddled Biggs in his seat, both couples behaving as if it were the most perfectly natural thing in the world. 

_Godfuckingdamnit_.

“I wanna thank all of y’all for your hard work today, and every day,” Barret announced, holding a beer up. “Another successful Thanksgiving drive thanks to the hard work of AVALANCHE. According to Gwen, we fed over five hundred families today.”

As Barret went on, Cloud’s eyebrow raised at that statistic, thinking back to standing on the sidewalk earlier, filling packages and handing out turkeys. It hadn’t seemed like it had been that many, and it dawned on him that there really were a lot of people who simply didn’t _have_ in this city, far more than he’d ever really thought about or considered. It made him think back to his conversation with Tifa, about the poverty she had grown to see in New York, about Aerith’s and Biggs’ students, about how some people had more than they could ever use while others simply went without.

He turned to her at that thought, finding Tifa staring up at Barret reverently. Out of everyone present, she seemed the most enraptured by Barret’s speech, nodding her head slightly. Cloud also noticed that her eyes seemed to be misting over.

“You alright?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, just as Wedge opened a bottle of vodka and began to pour into the red cups, handing them around.

“I was just thinking,” Tifa answered, turning to him, her lips curling up in the corners to offer him a shy, tiny smile. She was so freaking adorable, her lips so soft and full, Cloud had to clench his fists at his sides to keep them from reaching out to cup her cheeks so that he could crush his lips against hers. 

The gods favored him then, because he was handed his cup, and instantly he brought it to his mouth and drank down a fast swig of vodka, setting fire to his nerves but at least giving him an excuse to turn away from her for a moment.

“How did things go with your dad?” he finally asked, once the alcohol had begun to settle into his blood.

Tifa sighed, and Cloud could see the sadness ripple across her features again, the same look she had worn when her father had called her the other night while she was at his apartment. She tipped her own cup, sipping deeply before she turned to him to respond.

“Fine, I guess. I’ve given up fighting with him, Cloud. I’ll be working with Shinra in January. At least the salary is good.”

Cloud felt a new heat settle over him, but this time, it flared with the pulse of anger. As the words were leaving her lips, he could see the joy escape from her eyes along with them, and Cloud found himself thinking back to Barret’s earlier words about Tifa running for office.

“Is that what you want?” he asked her softly, and Tifa just shook her head.

“It really doesn’t matter anymore,” she replied, staring down into her cup. “My father is right, some of my ambitions were a little silly, a little lofty. I have to think realistically.”

“Lofty?” Cloud repeated. “Like running for office?”

Tifa looked up at him. “What do you -?”

“Barret had mentioned it earlier,” Cloud explained, leaning forward over his knees so that he could catch the glint of moonlight in the crimson sparkles of her eyes. 

“Oh,” Tifa leaned back in her chair, blushing slightly, which made her cheeks already rosy from the cold night air brighten, and Cloud wanted so badly to reach forward and close the physical chasm between them, wanted badly to hold her close to him so he could absorb all of her apprehension and doubt and drain it away from her. “I know he’s been suggesting that for a while, but it’s silly, really.”

“I think you’d be good at it,” Cloud couldn’t stop himself from saying. “You’re really smart, Tifa, and people listen to you. You know what you’re talking about when you speak. People would look up to you.”

She blushed further, staring down into her cup again, and Cloud found himself zeroing in on her dark lashes, a flush contrast against the pale, porcelain skin of her high cheekbones. In that split moment, she was even more beautiful than she had ever been, exuding a calm, gentle shyness, and Cloud wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press light kisses to her eyelids.

“Thanks, Cloud. I guess it’s just not meant to be.”

He started to protest, but Tifa decided to prowl on with the conversation, sharing that she thought that Barret would be much better suited for that kind of position, since he loved making speeches and was already well established and respected as a leader in the community. That led to a conversation about Marlene and Denzel, who Tifa revealed had both been adopted by Barret, Marlene the daughter of his friend who had been killed years ago during a protest that had turned violent during clashes with police, and Denzel an orphan who was one of Biggs’ students and had taken to spending a lot of time around AVALANCHE in the years since his parents died. Barret had recently made the decision to adopt him, since he’d already become part of the family anyway.

Cloud let Tifa talk, listening as he always did, filling in the conversation when she prompted him, but mostly content to watch her out of the side of his eyes as she spoke, admiring the line of her jaw and the slope of her neck, the shimmer on her lips as they moved and the shine of starlight in her hair every time she tucked a wayward lock behind her ear.

“So,” Jessie’s voice had risen with a bright laugh to capture the attention of the group, and Cloud looked in her direction, finding that she already appeared to be quite drunk. To his amazement, Aerith was sparking a joint and bringing it to her lips where she sat folded in Zack’s lap, right there in open, in the middle of a roof on a church of all places. “While that’s coming around, I think we need to address our little bet. Looks like we all lost.”

She was staring directly at Cloud and Tifa, and Cloud could only shake his head as Zack began to laugh, accepting the joint from Aerith, who was also giggling, now slightly stoned and tipsy. What a hell of a way to celebrate Thanksgiving.

“You guys were wasting your time,” Tifa insisted. “Cloud and I are friends. We’ve been friends for a long time. And I am not interested in a relationship, anyway. It’s too much of a hassle.”

“Hmph,” Jessie snorted, and Cloud should have known that eventually, it would come to this, he just wished that it hadn’t, that he could figure out a way to escape.

“I wouldn’t say that, Tifa,” Biggs interjected. “I mean, if it’s not the right time for it, then that’s fine, but don’t write it off forever. It does take effort to make it work,” he turned to Jessie as he said this, offering her a crooked smile that, miraculously, managed to make her blush. “But it’s worth it. I think you and Cloud could make it work if you wanted to. You guys seem perfect for each other.”

Cloud’s neck was on fire.

“Cloud will never make a move,” Zack added unhelpfully, his eyes glassy now. “Not without some encouragement.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around Aerith as she leaned into him, and Cloud was absolutely disgusted.

Why the fuck were they still having this conversation?

“That gives me an idea,” Jessie cried, now with the joint in hand. She took a drag of it before handing it to Biggs, who accepted it, to Cloud’s surprise. He took one hit before passing it to Barret, who waved it off, Wedge reaching for it next. “My next proposal is five hundred for the first person who can successfully convince Cloud and Tifa to just do it already.”

“Pff,” Barret humphed, arms folded across his barrel of a chest. “I’m out. Ain’t nobody got that type of money.”

“Oh, this is a challenge I can accept,” Aerith bubbled, leaning back over Zack’s lap so that her hair spilled out in a wavy tumble across her shoulders and over his knees. “I assure you all that I have this handled. Right, Tifa?” she offered her a wink, and Tifa just shook her head, accepting the joint from Wedge.

“Try if you like, but I’m immune to your wiles,” Tifa said, and Cloud watched her as she brought the joint up to her pretty pink lips, pulling on it slowly, a thin line of white smoke escaping when she parted her mouth and exhaled, the sweet odor wrapping around them both.

Why was watching Tifa Lockhart smoke weed giving him a rock-solid erection?

_Fuck fuck fuck_.

She offered it to him, and Cloud drowned out the sounds of her friends as they continued to debate their methods for getting him and Tifa to finally hookup. He hesitated, but the shine and the sparkle in Tifa’s eyes as she gestured to him had him raising his hand to accept it.

“Just a little,” she told him softly, “It will make them a lot more tolerable.”

Cloud nodded, sharing a smirk with her before bringing the joint to his lips and inhaling carefully. Almost instantly, he could feel the giddy dizziness wrap around his brain in a hazy fog, and suddenly, he really didn’t give a fuck about their merciless teasing. 

He got up to hand the joint back to Aerith, and when he came back, he found that Tifa had pulled her chair up right beside his, leaving no space between them. He hesitated before he sat back down, his thoughts swimming in a confusing blend of intoxication, and she was smiling at him, the stars in her eyes.

Something magnetic was suddenly building between them, pulling him in close, and Cloud fell back into his seat, instantly aware of how close Tifa now was to him. He was captivated by the sweet remnants of the shampoo she used, of the sugary, confectionary scent that drifted away from her skin, of the heat that her body exuded. 

She was so, so close, and Cloud’s brain misfired when her arm slipped under his, wrapping around it, and pulling him in towards her.

“Let’s just fuck with them for a little while,” she whispered, and he looked down to find her eyes glassy and her pupils wide and dilated, and she was looking at him with something like love in her eyes, misted over by the blur of alcohol and pot. “I’m cold, Cloud,” she said a little louder, and her right arm came to loop around his chest, effectively pressing her against him, and Cloud lost it.

“Keep me warm,” she begged, her voice suddenly deeper and huskier than he’d ever heard it, and Cloud was mystified, and thanking the gods that it was dark out here and no one could see the way he was steepling his pants.

The blend of booze and narcotics in his brain made his decisions and his actions a little more fluid, and he found himself gently shifting in his seat so that his arm could wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in close, and in turn, Tifa snuggled up closer to him.

Moonstruck, Cloud looked down to see that Tifa was looking up at him, her head hovering by his shoulder and her face inches away from his. He missed the fact that their friends had mostly fallen silent around them, all of them watching them intently.

He didn’t know what was happening, but somehow, he was leaning down, and Tifa was leaning up, and her lips were parting, and her eyes were closing, and _oh shit oh shit oh shit_ she was about to kiss him and -

An obnoxious blare of music began to pierce the air, ridiculous sing-song ringing that emanated from Tifa’s hip and tore like an axe between them, severing the connection. Instantly, Tifa leaned away from him and pulled her phone out of her pocket, pulling it up to her face.

“Jesus Christ,” Zack was saying, and Cloud was suddenly very, very aware of Jessie’s shrill laughter. “Unless that’s the President of the United States, ignore it! Just kiss her already!”

But the moment was broken, scattered to the wind, and Cloud’s face was suddenly bright and hot and goddamnit was he fucking embarrassed.

And he couldn’t help but peer down at the glow of Tifa’s screen as she cradled her phone in her hand, glancing at the name that flashed across the display, something vivid and hot and angry flooding him with jealousy racing through his veins.

_Rufus Shinra._

“Do you need to take that?” Cloud couldn’t stop himself from asking, and he hated the way that his voice sounded, a cross between a ragey growl and a needy, cracked whine.

Tifa deadened the screen, sending the call to voicemail and shuffling the phone back into her pocket. She turned to him and shook her head, then dropped her head to his shoulder, settling comfortably against him.

“It’s nobody important,” she whispered, and the others around them were laughing, filling Cloud’s head with mist.

But Cloud knew that wasn’t true, and somehow, the name that had blared that brief second across her screen was now permanently etched across the front of his skull, flashing like the bright lights and screens in the center of Times Square.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> michaelscottyikes.gif
> 
> See you soon!


	4. Half in Light and Half in Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> Did the chapter count just go up again? Yikes. Bad planning on my part.
> 
> Thank you everyone for continuing to read this story and for sharing your beautiful comments and feedback! I am so incredibly honored by all of the love.
> 
> This chapter takes its title from a line in The Midnight Song, 'Last Train'.
> 
> Shoutout to @stickyelectrons for creating more gorgeous art inspired by this fic! Please scream at her on Twitter.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter Four 

Half in Light and Half in Dark

“You really should smile more, Tifa.”

Tifa glanced across the backseat of Brian’s town car, catching her father staring back at her, watching her face carefully. She felt a sudden, bright flare of anger stab her from his words, but it was extinguished quickly by the nervousness that was building inside of her as they drove deeper into Manhattan, nearing the Waldorf-Astoria, one of the ritziest hotels that towered over Park Avenue in gleaming gold and silver.

The weeks following Thanksgiving had transpired with agonizing slowness as the temperatures dropped even further, as the leaves that had fallen from the neighborhood trees began to fade and blow away, as the first snowfalls of the season descended on the city, leaving it painted with whites and grays as everything began to freeze over. In tandem, holiday decorations began to spring up, the facades of houses and skyscrapers and the pines in the parks lighting up with bright colorful lights and the sparkles of garland and Christmas cheer.

Even though it was her favorite time of year and arguably the happiest, Tifa found herself struggling to enjoy the season, striving to even enjoy the crisp snowfalls that decorated her front steps with a thick layer of white fluff, unable to let go of her anxiety long enough to appreciate the echoes of children laughing, or the bright holiday music that seemed to emanate from every shop and building or park in all five boroughs. 

The semester had already drawn to a close, her final projects and exams cleared away and paperwork for her degree conferment already processing. While it was a load off of Tifa’s shoulders to be finally, fully done with school, it only made more real the increasing certainty that once the holidays were over, she would be working for Shinra Capitol.

She hadn’t even spoken to Barret about it yet, knowing that she would likely have to quit working at Seventh Heaven and probably wouldn’t be able to spend nearly as much time volunteering with AVALANCHE as she had in the past. It was not a conversation she was looking forward to having at all.

Worse than that, there was the matter of Rufus Shinra himself. He was not the type to wait idly by, and ever since her first meeting with him, he had taken to phoning and texting her far more than she thought was appropriate. Most of the time, she ignored his calls, utilizing the excuse that she was working or otherwise busy and unable to take his calls. But she did occasionally respond to his texts, as cooly as possible, until he began to ask her out to coffee and brunch, leaving her to shuffle through excuses until she truly felt trapped.

She knew that she could not avoid his advances forever, and judging from his persistence, he was not the type to take no for an answer.

Then, there was Cloud. Since the night on the church rooftop before Thanksgiving, Tifa remained conflicted and torn by her feelings for him. She had been so close to him that night, pressed against his warm body, his arm around her, his face inches from hers, that she had almost thought that maybe, _maybe,_ there was a chance that there was something growing between them. He had been about to kiss her, she was sure of it, right before her phone rang. Then everything had been interrupted, and even though she’d sent Rufus to voicemail, she knew the moment had passed, and she suddenly realized that she no longer felt quite as giddy and stoned and happy as she had moments prior. Attempting to avoid the awkwardness of the situation, she tried to play it off by enjoying Cloud’s company for the rest of the night, but between the rigid stiffness that his body had assumed and the way he flinched at their friends’ drunken teasing, Tifa had gotten the impression that something had been damaged. 

As much as she tried to convince herself that she didn’t want a relationship, that she and Cloud were not sharing threads of attraction, that they were both simply content to remain friends, she knew deep inside that none of that was true. She had felt it between them both as they sat side by side on the rooftop that night, moments away from sharing something physical between them that might give an indication of what they both were truly feeling.

Yet once the night was over, once the misty haze of booze and weed was gone, they had both gone on pretending it had never happened, as if the moment had been imagined and not real. In any of their subsequent meetings or conversations, Cloud never brought it up, and Tifa dared not to either. No matter how much their friends teased or prodded, they both tried to ignore it, to deny its existence.

Still, Tifa knew what was inside of her heart. She _did_ have feelings for Cloud. Strong ones. She may not be able to admit that to anyone else, but she turned it over inside of her own head all of the time, thinking about him nightly when she fell asleep, her pillow wrapped in her arms as she imagined it was him lying beside her, her fingers sometimes slipping past the waistband of her pajamas, wishing her hand was his.

It was too much to hold in, but Tifa didn’t have the energy to try to figure out a way past it, and she was happy enough with her friendship with Cloud remaining as it was, content to talk to him and spend time the way they always did, even if her heart longed to just get the words out and confess to him.

Now, she was on her way to yet another business affair with her father and the Shinras, this time, Shinra Capitol’s annual Christmas party. Although Tifa had not yet officially started in her new position with Shinra, the Shinras had invited her, and Brian insisted that she attend.

“This is an opportunity for you to meet the other executives at the company and begin networking with the staff,” he’d told her as soon as she’d slid into the backseat when he’d picked her up that evening. “Even though you’ll be working with Rufus, Shinra is a very large organization, and it will behoove you to make as many connections as you possibly can to be most effective in your work.”

At the way he stressed _behoove,_ Tifa felt a cold chill ripple over her spine, and she straightened against her seat, feeling disgusted.

They arrived at the Waldorf-Astoria a little after nine that evening, Brian’s town car depositing them outside of the hotel’s main entrance. Tifa had passed this building more times than she could count since she’d moved to New York, but she had never really stopped to pay it any attention, nor could she remember ever being inside. It was certainly the sort of place she imagined her father spending plenty of time in.

Tifa held her clutch against her belly as they walked inside, passing through the hotel’s massive glass doors, less than a pace behind her father as they entered. The Four Seasons was a dive in comparison, she found herself thinking. The front lobby of the Waldorf was shrouded entirely in gleaming, aurulent marble and cream-colored walls, bright, tile-paneled windows that let in the streaks of artificial light from outside in through delicately carved panels in the glass. Even the chandeliers above head were somehow brighter than anything she’d seen before, glittering with thousands of gems of crystal teardrops.

Tifa was barely listening as she and her father were first invited to drop off their coats and then escorted to the main ballroom where the Shinra party was being held. As soon as she was free from her outerwear, her self-consciousness began to descend on her with the weight of a storm. She had chosen that night to dress in a high-necked, wine-colored midi dress that stopped just an inch above her knees, form-fitting but not too tight, and while sleeveless, adorned with thick straps that crossed over each shoulder. She’d swept her hair up into a twisted updo, pinned against the back of her head, long tendrils framing her face.

She did not miss the way her father gave her a once over after they’d handed their coats away, nodding approvingly before they made their way inside the ballroom.

The ballroom was even more sweeping than the Waldorf’s main lobbies and entranceways, one of the largest rooms Tifa had ever seen and filled to the brim with Shinra employees. The high ceilings were perforated by glass skylights that let in spectacular views of the night sky and the neon light pollution of Manhattan. The room was filled with circular tables and included a dais and dance floor near the front, a pair of winding stone staircases on either side of the room leading to additional, private chambers.

“Ah,” Tifa’s father huffed at her side. “I see the President. Come along.”

Brian, now standing beside her in a three-piece, black tuxedo, offered her his arm, and Tifa hated herself for hesitating for a moment before she accepted it and followed him.

Tifa could not shake the burn of stares that she felt on her back as they passed through the throng, men and women dressed in tuxedos and fancy cocktail dresses, openly watching her as she followed her father to the front of the room where President Shinra stood among a small group of the company’s chief executives. Tifa wondered why she was drawing so much attention. Was it simply because she was with her father, who was one of the most high-profile and well-respected executives in the firm? Or were people expecting her already? Had her name already begun to be passed around?

She didn’t want to think about it.

Brian came to a stop when they reached President Shinra, who was standing beside a voluptuous woman in a dark burgundy dress, her breasts nearly spilling from the deep V-cut of the neckline, her golden hair swept up high on the top of her head. Beside her was an older, barrel-chested man, dark hair peppered with gray, his face set into an eternal scowl.

“Brian,” Shinra tipped his cigar in their direction as they approached. “And Ms. Lockhart. So glad you could join us this evening.”

“We’ve been looking forward to this,” Brian replied, and Tifa hated how he decided to answer for them both.

“Ah, Ms. Lockhart. Allow me to introduce you to Scarlet, our Chief Strategy Officer, and Heiddegar, our Chief Risk Officer,” Shinra was saying next.

“A pleasure,” the woman named Scarlet offered cooly without extending a hand, and Tifa could feel the ice pierce like daggers from her sharp, pale green eyes.

“We’ve heard quite a bit about you already, Ms. Lockhart,” Heiddegar spoke next, offering her his hand brusquely, and Tifa shook it carefully. His voice was rough and phlegmy, the sound of a man who was either perpetually coughing or yelling. “We welcome you to Shinra Capitol.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Tifa responded politely, keeping her tone even.

“Ms. Lockhart, I hear, has more than double her father’s financial sense,” Shinra chuckled before bringing his cigar to his lips for another puff. Brian laughed along with this amiably.

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” her father agreed, turning to Tifa, offering her a smile, his dark eyes gleaming. At that bit of praise, she felt her heart stutter, but then her father was turning his attention back to his colleagues again, and Tifa was left wondering how genuine his sentiment truly was.

She realized, then, that she had not known for a long, long time how sincere her father’s feelings toward her actually were.

“Tifa, as a financial strategist, I’m sure you’ll be spending quite a bit of time around Scarlet,” her father was saying next. “Scarlet is one of the most brilliant financial strategists in the industry.”

Scarlet only shrugged, bringing her glass of wine up to her lips, and Tifa thought that she appeared immeasurably bored.

“Scarlet knows a little bit about everything,” Heiddegar remarked, and all of the men laughed, Scarlet only rolling her pallid green eyes heavenward, and Tifa wondered what was laced behind the comment that clearly she was not privy to.

“What seems to be so amusing?” a crisp, deep voice cut into the conversation, and Tifa turned to see that Rufus Shinra had approached, tonight dressed in a well-tailored white tuxedo, the vest below his jacket a shimmery shade of muted silver. The color seemed to bounce off of his silky flaxen hair, making the locks that spilled into his forehead appear an even more glimmering shade of platinum. As soon as her eyes drifted up and met his, Tifa felt rooted in place, the anxiety spiking against her nerves and sending a collision of ice into her spine.

“Tifa, I didn’t know you had arrived,” Rufus continued before anyone could answer his previous question. Miraculously, he smoothly cut through the group to approach her, and once again, he was reaching for her hand. She felt as if she were suspended in slow motion as she lifted it to him, watching in a terrified daze as he pressed his lips to her skin once again.

It was the second time she had seen him in person since their first meeting at the Four Seasons. She’d found a dozen reasons to avoid all of his calls in the interim and had exchanged no more than a few curt, to-the-point text messages with him since then. Yet here she was, once again living under his intense, frosty blue stare, under the staggering smirk that seemed to flicker with a shadowed, malignant intent. She didn’t understand why the looks he cast her alone were so deeply unsettling, why they dug under her flesh and burrowed with a heat that charred her bones while also freezing her nerves until they snapped away like delicate shards of ice.

“Good evening,” she managed.

Rufus’ smirk teased into a soundless laugh. “Your arrival is perfectly timed. I’d love to introduce you to one of my associates.” He moved closer to her again, now in the aura of her space, his cologne invading and poisoning it. He offered her his arm before turning to her father.

“Mind if I take her off of your hands for a bit?” 

Brian nodded approvingly, now wearing a smirk of his own as he turned to Tifa.

“Of course.”

Tifa hesitated, watching Rufus Shinra’s arm hover just inches from hers. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, his scent suffocating her with its deep, birchy spices and hints of French apple. Her father, though, had turned to her expectantly, leveling his gaze at her, and Tifa slowly lifted her arm to accept Rufus’.

She was sure that she heard Scarlet chuckle darkly under her breath, and when Tifa turned to her, she noticed that the older woman was staring at her with knives in her eyes, the look behind that veil sheltering something utterly sinister.

“Have fun, kids,” Heiddegar remarked with a bellowing guffaw as Rufus led her away, the flicker of the ballroom’s yellow lighting dancing across his hair.

His arm in hers was uncomfortably warm, and their interlocked connection brought her far too close to him. He walked swiftly, the crowd of Shinra employees parting like the Red Sea for him as he approached, and Tifa found herself being forced to match his pace as he pulled her along.

She noticed that they were heading toward one of the spiraling staircases near the eastern wing of the ballroom, and Tifa felt a mild, flurrying sense of panic begin to rock over her.

“Where are we going?” she blurted.

Rufus didn’t slow down, but he did turn to her, his glassy blue eyes shining. “Ah, my colleagues are in one of the private rooms. These parties can become a bit… taxing, as the night wears on. You’ll find I am a man of simple tastes, Tifa. I’m not one for these robust crowds.”

He held her eyes for a moment, his smirk and the look in his eyes still producing the most unpleasant vibrations across her flesh that she could ever remember feeling. No matter how good looking he was, no matter how charismatic and charming, there was something deeply inauthentic about him that simply made her skin crawl.

She wanted to protest, but any words died deep in her throat as they began to ascend the staircase. Instead, she began to cycle through her options should she need them, knowing that she was not above round housing Rufus Shinra in the jaw if it came to that.

Eventually, he brought her to one of the small, private rooms on the upper level, which were really nothing more than elaborate corporate conference rooms with plush couches and the kinds of amenities that were typically found inside of expensive suites. They entered the room, and Rufus stepped out of the way to let Tifa through the threshold. As she stepped into the room, she could already detect the sweet tinge of alcohol in the air.

Judging from Rufus’ words, she had been expecting a group, but there was only one other man waiting in the room when they entered, standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked Park Avenue, his hands crossed in front of him. Tifa felt her eyebrow immediately rise at the sight of the long, silky, midnight-black hair that trailed his back in a flawless cascade, rivaling her own locks.

At the sound of their arrival, just as Rufus shut the door behind them, the man turned to face them, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of her. Tifa felt her stomach flip as their eyes met, his dark and penetrating. Like Rufus, he was attractive in an unnerving sort of way, though his features were more beautiful than classically handsome, his face narrow, his lips thin, eyes almond-shaped and lashes dark. His hair was an altogether separate matter; Tifa was sure she had never seen a man with such an unbelievably gorgeous head of hair in her life.

“Tseng, this is Tifa Lockhart,” Rufus said, capturing Tseng’s attention, who finally withdrew from the window and crossed the room to join them by the couch. “This is Tseng, our General Counsel. He does a great deal of personal work for me and my father as well. I should imagine you will get to know him very well as we begin to work together.”

“Ms. Lockhart,” Tseng offered with a tip of his head, his voice smooth but not quite as deep as Rufus’. Like Scarlet, he did not offer her his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Tifa choked out, feeling something uniquely frigid under Tseng’s study of her. It was not unnerving in the electric, leery way that Rufus’ stares had been. Tseng’s eyes were cold and distrustful, in fact, watching her as if he were waiting for her to attack, prepared with a counterstrike.

This thought left her insides bubbling uncomfortably, pushing up the anxiety into her throat until she felt like she might vomit.

Rufus tossed his head at Tseng and then glanced at the coffee table, before turning to Tifa and offering her his same smirk.

“Have a seat. I’ll get us a drink.”

Once again, Tifa felt the strong urge to protest, but summoned the strength to pursue her social expectations and dispel it, instead nodding as she sank into the couch, pulling the hem of her skirt as close to her knees as she possibly could before clapping her hands tight around her clutch in her lap. Rufus let his eyes linger a little too long on her face, before they dragged a long trail along the lines of her body, finally turning away to make his way to the sidebar across the room. Tifa felt her breath escape as if she had been holding it beneath water when he finally turned away.

The seconds ticked by like hours as he fixed them drinks at the sidebar, Tifa glancing up to see he was pouring a from a bottle of Macallan single-malt scotch, one of the most expensive whiskeys in the world. Behind her, Tseng was quietly rustling through a briefcase for something on the conference table.

Rufus returned with both drinks in hand, offering one to her, which she accepted, willing her hands not to shake. He fell into a seat beside her on the couch, only a few inches away, though he mercifully broadened the gap between them by leaning back casually against the couch with one arm over its back, his leg crossed over his knee. Tifa wondered how offensive he might find it if she slid back and gave them a little more space.

“So, Tifa,” Rufus began as he brought his glass up to his lips, and Tifa found herself despising how casually, how comfortably, he let himself toss her first name from his mouth. “We haven’t had much time to talk since we first met. I’d love to get to know more about you before you begin next month.”

Tifa heard Tseng snap the briefcase shut behind her, startling her out of the trail of thoughts she’d only just begun to develop in response.

Instead, she brought her drink up to her lips, taking a deep but careful sip. As a bartender, she was very well acquainted with her scotches, and she knew that this stuff was particularly aged and strong. The warm liquid burned a hot trail down her throat behind the flavors of smoke and orange, and Tifa felt her head swim as the alcohol seeped its way into her bloodstream.

“What would you like to know?” she asked cautiously, just as Tseng came around and placed a tiny silver vial on the coffee table in front of Rufus.

Rufus leaned forward to pick it up, twirling it over his fingers as he looked back at her. “Well, I know that your daddy forced you to take this job, didn’t he?” he taunted in a low voice, a chuckle behind it, and Tifa watched his long, sinewy fingers deftly unscrew the cap on the vial. “That leaves us with at least one thing in common, doesn’t it?”

Tifa felt her heart begin to pound, completely disconcerted at his words. What did he know of her relationship with her father, or how tenuous things had been leading up to this moment? Did everyone know the most despairing, intimate details of her private life? Had her father said something of it to Shinra? This thought so disturbed her that she almost glossed over the fact that Rufus had shared that he too felt the same as she did.

She started to inquire about his last comment when she realized that he was dumping a tiny mountain of white powder from the vial onto the tip of his pinky finger. She watched in silence as he turned slightly away from her to bring it up to his nostril before inhaling deeply, the powder disappearing from the pad of his finger.

Tifa had heard plenty of stories about the behavior of Wall Street executives and investment bankers and brokers, but she had never really expected to see it so blatantly on display, right in front of her.

She was even more stunned when Rufus held out the tiny silver vial, offering it to her.

“Would you like a hit, Tifa?” he asked her, his voice suddenly much lower, and Tifa could see his pupils dilate and expand against the pale translucent blue of his irises as the cocaine hit his system.

Tifa shook her head instantly, this time actually sliding back slightly on the couch. “N-no. Thank you. I’m fine.”

Rufus shrugged, recapturing the vial in his fist before sliding it into the breast pocket of his blazer. He smirked at her once again, tossing his head so that his hair tumbled across his forehead in that dangerous way again, and he leaned back against the couch once more.

“Neither of you are any fun,” he complained, just as Tseng found a seat in one of the armchairs across from the couch.

“So, you did not want to work in finance?” Tifa couldn’t stop herself from asking, still lingering on the strange turn of the conversation and the manner in which Rufus had unmasked her.

Rufus chuckled in response, returning to his scotch. “It really doesn’t matter, does it, Tifa? I’m sure you’ve come to realize that, have you not?” His eyes were leveled with hers now, searching her face, and their coloring seemed to brighten now that his system was swirling with the faint touches of both drugs and alcohol. “When you come from families such as ours, you one day wake up to accept your birthright, and you make the most of it.” At this, he glanced at Tseng, tipping his head slightly, but Tifa realized that Tseng was actually staring at her, his eyes smoldering with something that she did not quite understand.

“But what if you don’t want to make the most of it?” Tifa found herself asking, the whiskey talking now, and she could have slapped herself for falling into conversation with Rufus Shinra.

Rufus only laughed. “It could be much worse, Tifa,” he replied, a note of condescension in his tone. “We could have been born poor.”

At that, Tifa felt the sudden flare of anger pool in her belly and expand into her chest, far outweighing the heat that her drink had produced inside of her.

The night progressed in a similarly agonizing fashion. Rufus pestered her with small talk on the couch for another round of drinks, asking her questions about her financial background and how she was looking forward to her new role, what ideas she might bring and what things she might change about Shinra if given the opportunity. She answered them as carefully as she could, not wanting to appear rude but also completely perturbed by the entire experience. Only as she was finishing her second glass did her responses get a little bolder. And the entire time, General Counsel Tseng remained mostly silent, his eyes watching her intently before they would drift back to Rufus.

Sometime later, a little after ten, they rejoined the main party, the sounds of Christmas music beginning to swirl around her as she continued to sip on wine throughout the night, Rufus and her father and President Shinra taking turns in alternating her through dances or introducing her to other important employees in the Company. By midnight, Tifa was slightly tipsy and exhausted, completely overwhelmed by Rufus and Shinra and the entire financial world.

How would she ever get through a lifetime of this?

Around one in the morning, her father had finally had enough, and he seemed to be aware that Tifa had taken to drinking to get herself through the night. The crowd had begun to disperse, and Brian looped his arms with hers as they returned to Shinra’s table at the head of the room to say goodnight.

Rufus was once again right on top of her as they exchanged their goodbyes, stepping far too close, his searing heat spilling over into her personal space and his cologne filling her with nausea. 

Much taller than she, he had bent his head down beside her ear shamelessly, right in front of both their fathers and everyone else present.

“I hope you will take my calls after tonight,” he coaxed in a gravelly tone that was a little too loud to be considered a whisper.

Tifa backed away, almost stumbling into her father.

“Don’t count on it,” she defied, hotly, far too loudly. 

Her father shot her a dangerous, almost horrified look, but what Tifa really hated was the way that Rufus simply began to laugh in response, tossing his head back, his hand now casually in his pocket, his voice rolling over her like thunder as if her words had been the most truly amusing thing he had ever heard.

“We are going to get along very well, Tifa Lockhart,” Rufus replied after his laughter faded, and Tifa hated the way that her father smiled at that.

She rode home with her face close to the window of the rear passenger seat as Brian’s driver escorted them home, trying to absorb some of the glass’ coolness against her cheek as she listened to Brian’s assessment of the evening, which included his sparse praises of her choice in dress and her polite manners and her smooth networking, but was interspersed with his criticisms of her drinking far too much and being sassy with the vice president and not _smiling_ _enough_. Tifa let his words fade somewhere behind her, leaning into the window as if she were a kid again in the back of her parents’ car in Breckenridge, when she would press her face against the window and watch her breath paint puffs of condensation across the glass so that she could draw shapes and letters in them with the tips of her fingers.

When her father dropped her off, she was still feeling mystified by the haze of whisky and wine, and she fumbled her way through a farewell to him before ambling inside of her brownstone and up to her apartment. It was just after two, and the apartment was dark, Aerith tucked away and well on her way to sleep.

Tifa slid into her room and pulled off her heels and her dress, tearing her hair out of its updo before she rummaged through her purse for her phone. When she retrieved it, she realized that this was the first time in hours that she had checked it, since she had put it on silent before arriving at the Christmas party. Standing only in her undergarments in the center of her bedroom, still wearing her makeup, she lit up the screen of her phone to see one message waiting for her, received at 10:31 PM.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hey._

Tifa bit her bottom lip, running her fingers over the display, savoring his name as she stared at it. Still cradling the phone inches from her face, she crossed the room to her bed and fell across it, belly down.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Sorry, I just got home. Was with my dad again. Are you free tomorrow? It’s the last Sunday before Christmas, so might be our last shot to see the tree in Rockefeller Center_

She held her phone in her hand, watching the screen, knowing that it was pretty late and that he was probably asleep. Eventually, her screen began to dim, and she started to give up, hoping he’d respond in the morning.

But just as she was about to drop the phone to the side, the screen brightened again.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Sure. Just let me know what time._

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hope your dad isn’t still being an ass._

Seeing his response, she let the phone fall to the bed beside her, and she dropped her face into the covers.

And for the first time that night, Tifa smiled.

* * *

Tifa’s whiskey-wine headache the next day wasn’t bad enough to keep her in bed past ten, which still gave her and Cloud plenty of time to spend the day together. As soon as her eyes opened, she stared up at the ceiling, letting the memories of yesterday re-flood her.

As much as Rufus and her father and Shinra and their bizarre, haughty executives like Tseng and Scarlet and Heiddegar haunted her, the only memory that Tifa cared about was that last text message with Cloud at two in the morning, and instantly, she was texting him to confirm.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Morning! I’m heading to shower. Want to leave around noon?_

**_Cloud:_ ** _That works._

And so Tifa was up, showering and trying to center her mind. The weather was quite cold in New York this time of year, and so she dressed warmly in light wash jeggings and a deep maroon, turtlenecked sweater. She brushed her hair and left it loose and long around her shoulders, sighing deeply at her reflection in the bathroom mirror before turning away, once again internally questioning her own image that looked back at her.

Aerith was out with Zack again, and so Tifa was able to make her way out of the apartment without a line of questioning. When she descended the steps of her brownstone outside, she found Cloud already waiting for her by the gate.

“Hey.”

Tifa stopped and offered him a smile as she turned and locked the door behind her, already warmed over by the deep tenor of his voice in his greeting. He was wearing dark jeans and his dark gray motorcycle jacket again, and Tifa could see his black turtleneck beneath it, wrapped tight around his throat.

“Heya.”

They walked side by side to the subways and through the streets of Manhattan, holiday lights and music drifting around them, Cloud mostly quiet while Tifa decorated the conversation with whatever topics she could pull from. She found it mostly difficult, though, her mind still swirling with the uncertainties that lay ahead beyond the New Year, of her unspoken conversations with Barret and AVALANCHE, of the tension between her and Rufus and the confusion of her new job in a company that seemed daunting and overpowering and that she wanted nothing to do with. She avoided those issues entirely, though, instead sharing with Cloud some of her experiences that week teaching at Zangan’s dojo and about the novel she’d just finished, gently prodding him with questions about his writing or the books he was reading. Eventually, the conversation quieted completely, and Tifa found herself content to walk quietly at Cloud’s side, though her right hand itched to reach out to take his.

As they neared Rockefeller Center, a small shop that was lit up bright with colorful holiday lights and an inviting Santa Claus display right outside the front door on West 50 th Street caught Tifa’s eye. She paused to take a glance at it, causing Cloud to stop beside her and tip his head at her.

“What’s up?”

She smirked, an idea brewing and suddenly fueling her blood with warmth. She took a few steps closer to the shop, peering through the window, Cloud following behind her like a magnet. Through the glass, Tifa could see everything from collectibles and teeshirts to figurines and children’s toys, a homegrown novelty shop.

“Hey, Cloud. Did you get me anything for Christmas?” she asked him daringly, and she watched as his face darkened before he turned away with a pout.

“No, I didn’t think we were doing -“

“Come on,” Tifa smiled, pushing gently on his arm with both hands, leading him into the shop.

“Hey.”

Inside, the shop - Annie’s Blue Ribbon General - was characteristically small like most stores in the city, aisles that were too narrow and shelves that were overstuffed and packed with merchandise. Stuffed animals, gift items, compact discs and vinyls, even rows of clothing filled the tiny boutique. Tifa turned around and glanced at Cloud.

“This place has everything,” she told him. “Aerith showed me this shop when we were in high school. We started a tradition, where we would pick out gifts for each other and buy them together. Sorta like an instant secret Santa.”

Cloud looked completely dumbfounded, and Tifa couldn’t help but laugh when he shrugged helplessly at her.

“Oh, don’t look so perplexed. All you have to do is find something that makes you think of me,” Tifa told him, and as soon as the words escaped her, she felt her cheeks warm and found that she was grinding the toe of her boot behind her opposite foot, the tempo of her pulse beginning to rise. “And don’t spend more than ten bucks. I’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes, is that enough time?”

“I guess,” Cloud agreed, still pouting in confusion.

Tifa broke away from him, meandering her way through the aisles, searching for the right gift for Cloud, her heart still pounding away in her chest. She wasn’t sure why she had initiated this moment between them. It was completely true that she and Aerith had shared this silly tradition - she had collected more trinkets and scented candles and plush toys over the years than she knew what to do with - and for whatever reason, it just felt like the right thing to do with Cloud, too. 

As friends.

And maybe, a tiny part of her hoped, it might bring them closer together, bridging that growing gap between them that plagued her night and day and left him infiltrating her dreams constantly.

She scoured the aisles, Mariah Carey crooning in the store’s MUZAK system, pouring out how all she wanted for Christmas was _you_. It was one of the most annoying songs in the world, but also one of the catchiest, and Tifa found herself quietly humming along as she searched the shelves for the perfect gift for Cloud, the back of her mind pinpricking with the fact that all she wanted for Christmas was _him_.

Eventually, she stopped at a display case of shot glasses and whisky tumblers, and she admired their designs for a moment, considering. Shot glasses were always nice gifts, they were stackable and collectible and always useful. She perused the designs for a moment, looking for one that she thought was perfect for Cloud until her eyes stopped on one that instantly painted a smile on her face.

She retrieved it from the case and brought it to the register to pay, just as she caught Cloud leaving the line with his purchase in hand, making his way outside of the shop. Tifa stood in line, still smiling to herself and feeling a little giddy inside as Nat King Cole caroled on the speakers above.

After she paid, she made her way outside of the shop, finding Cloud waiting for her on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as he spotted her, he unfolded them and held his bag out to her.

“Not yet,” Tifa said, and without even thinking about it, she looped her arm through his instead. “Wait until we get to the tree.”

Cloud readily accepted her arm, but said nothing, though Tifa could see the hints of red that blemished his pale cheeks as they fell in step together, and she knew instantly that her own were brightening as she began to wonder if maybe, despite the frigid temperatures outside, Cloud Strife was beginning to melt a little bit.

They walked the next few blocks arm in arm, the crowds thickening around them with tourists as they neared Rockefeller Center. Just ahead, Tifa could see the vast square plaza that was nestled between two towering stone skyscrapers, packs of ice skaters roving the rink in the center, colorful fairy lights bright against the gray, winter’s daytime sky. Flagpoles representing a volley of nations lined the plaza, and looming over all of it was a massive Norway spruce, nearly one hundred feet tall and glittering with holiday lights.

“There it is, Cloud. Come on, let’s sit at one of those tables so we can get a closer look.”

Cloud followed her silently through the throng of tourists and city dwellers who filled the plaza, the bright laughter of children and the shouts and happy cries of couples and families filling the air. The tables and chairs that lined the plaza were small and wrought-iron, bolted into the ground to keep them from scattering in the harsh New York winds. They found a table that was close to the tree and afforded them an unobstructed view.

Tifa sat first, and once Cloud dropped into his chair, she scooted hers closer to his so that they were both able to face the tree and glance up at it. He turned to her for a moment as she moved her seat towards him, and their eyes met just as she lowered herself into her seat. Cloud quickly looked away, turning his attention towards the spruce, and Tifa felt her cheeks flare again, her heart once more beginning its steady rise.

She placed her bag with Cloud’s gift on the table, glancing up at the tree, drinking in its beauty for long moments. Faint Christmas music was echoing from a speaker somewhere in the distance, and Tifa could hear the scrapes of the skaters’ blades against the ice on the rink behind them. As the wind pinpricked at her cheeks and flushed them cold, Tifa felt enraptured suddenly by the holiday atmosphere, warmed-over inside by Cloud at her side, pulsating a calmness that made her feel safe and, surprisingly, happy.

That thought drifting through her, Tifa turned to Cloud, catching a glimpse of his perfect profile, pale cheeks brightening pink with blood against the crisp, cold air, golden hair sparkling like jessamy glass as the wind pulled through it. He was still staring up at the tree, and Tifa could see the glimmers of aqua and royal blue swirling against his lashes, and she found herself reeled into the glimpse of his eyes as if by an unstoppable force.

“…It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” she found herself suddenly saying. Even though she meant to refer to the tree, she was still staring at the side of his face, and a part of her deep down inside wondered if she wasn’t really referring to him.

She watched as Cloud nodded a little, simultaneously offering a silent shrug. Something gravitational was pulling at Tifa, though, slamming her heart against her ribcage and with it, dragging her closer to him.

“Cloud…?”

He turned to her, his blue eyes widening somewhat at the expectancy in her tone, their color sparkling with viridian under the gleam of the holiday lights that surrounded them.

“Hm?”

Tifa inhaled deeply, thinking that she was finally, just going to come out and say it. Perhaps, if she at least got this one weight off of her chest, she might be able to breathe, no matter how devastating the outcome might be.

“Sometimes, being old friends is hard,” she mumbled, her words sounding silly as soon as they stumbled from her lips. Cloud was watching her intently as she spoke, and she saw his eyebrow furl slightly as he tried to figure out her meaning. Tifa realized that she too had no idea what she was trying to say.

“I mean, timing is everything,” she went on, shaking her head sadly at herself as she realized she was making even less sense, although she was shocked to hear Cloud agreeing with her at her side.

“Yeah,” he conceded softly, nodding his head at her and tilting it to one side, his eyes now bright and cobalt, awash in a glow that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Cloud…?” she continued, wanting badly to confess, wanting badly to pour her heart out right there on the table and share all of the deep feelings she had been harboring for him over the course of the past few months, ever since the moment he had saved her life and caught her in his arms on a rickety train ride in October. But her words were failing, caught up somewhere in the same cage that held her heart, submerged at the bottom of the sea and held down by the weights of her life that had been closing in on her like a vice throughout the last several weeks. “I…”

“Hm?”

She turned quickly away from him, unable to handle looking back into his incandescent cerulean oasis any longer. Instead, she reached for the bag from Annie’s.

“Here you go, Cloud. Merry Christmas.”

He accepted the bag from her, in tandem offering her the one he had been holding in his hand. As he handed it to her, their fingers lightly brushed against one another’s, and Tifa couldn’t stop the blush that rose again to the tops of her cheeks.

Holding her bag in hand, she watched out of the corners of her eyes as Cloud opened his and pulled his gift out, pulling away the tissue paper that the attendant had wrapped around the shot glass. He turned it over in his hands, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered it.

“…Is this a chicken?”

Tifa giggled, finding herself leaning into him. “It’s a baby chick, silly. It reminds me of your hair.” Unable to stop herself, Tifa reached up and ran her fingers through his tallest spikes, finding his hair softer than she could have ever imagined.

“Hey,” he protested, pouting again, and Tifa’s laugh deepened, her breath coming out in tiny white puffs against the cold air. 

“Thanks, Tifa,” he said after a moment and her giggles had died down. “It’s cute. You’re really sweet.”

Her heart beamed and magnified at that, warmth spreading over her entire body, including between her thighs. She tried to ignore the effect his words, wrapped so delicately in the gentle, deep tenor of his voice like a gift, were having on her body, and instead turned to her own gift and pulled the small bundle of tissue paper out of it, carefully unfolding it to reveal its contents.

Inside was a small, crystal figurine of a leaping blue dolphin, hand-carved and attached to a keychain. The blue was a deep aquamarine, and in the sunlight and sparkles of holiday lights that surrounded them, Tifa could see the refractions of a kaleidoscope of colors where the artist had carefully carved the glass. She felt her heart catch in her throat as she turned it over in her fingers, her eyes widening in surprise.

She loved dolphins. 

And it was beautiful.

She looked up at Cloud, finding him watching her with the corner of his lips turned up in the ghost of a smile as he waited. Tifa felt her voice catch in her throat, and she couldn’t stop the way that it cracked when she finally spoke.

“Cloud… how did you…?”

“I remember when we were kids,” he replied softly, and Tifa realized with sudden, stunning clarity that he was leaning over his knees, moving closer to her. “You used to love dolphins. You would get so mad about the animal cruelty at Seaworld. Do you remember that petition you started in sixth grade? When you got all of the kids and teachers to sign it, and then Mrs. Johnson helped you mail it to their headquarters?”

Tifa just stared at him, awestruck that he remembered any of that.

“You always were a fighter, Tifa,” Cloud added softly.

Tifa couldn’t stop the bright grin that erupted on her face then, and she glanced back at the sparkling dolphin, admiring its detail. “They never did respond,” she said after a moment, turning back to look up at him. “But this is beautiful, and so thoughtful, Cloud. I can’t believe you remembered that. I love it.”

But Cloud was moving closer to her, his face inches away from hers, and Tifa felt her heart suddenly pounding in her chest so loudly that she could hear the blood rush in her ears as she realized that his soft, boyishly replete lips were parting and that he was about to kiss her.

“Ms. Lockhart?”

The voice was a thunderclap, a deep, booming echo that tore between her and Cloud like the blade of a guillotine had been dropped, and at the sound, Cloud instantly pulled back and resettled into his chair. Tifa felt a cold, terrifying shiver run down her spine as she turned in the direction of the voice.

Standing just a few feet away was Rufus Shinra.

He looked stunningly different than she was used to seeing him, today wearing dark grey peacoat over what she assumed was another three-piece suit, a white scarf wrapped around his throat. His sky blue eyes were narrow with mirth, and at his side stood Tseng, dressed fully in black, and standing unnervingly close to Rufus’ side.

Tifa felt Cloud tense up at her side, a wave of static electricity passing through him and snapping his spine until he was sitting up, straight as a rod.

“…Rufus,” was all Tifa could say in reply.

Rufus’ eyebrows quirked, and his attention drifted away from her to settle on Cloud, and she watched as he mentally sized him up. The tension was wrapped so thick around Cloud that she was certain if she moved any closer to him, she would collide into it as if it were a wall.

And all the while, Tseng was staring directly at her, as if he were sizing _her_ up.

At last, Rufus spoke. “And who do I have the pleasure of making my acquaintance with today?” He asked her, tipping his head toward Cloud, clearly waiting for her to introduce them.

Tifa’s heart was now pounding for altogether new reasons, and so was her skull, and instantly she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream at the fact that Rufus had suddenly appeared, ruining yet another moment between her and Cloud, wanted to scream at the fact that Cloud had given her such a thoughtful gift and had been moments away from kissing her and remembered her passions from sixth grade and had called her a fighter and -

“This is my friend, Cloud,” Tifa heard herself say, her voice far, far, away. “Cloud, this is Rufus Shinra, my employer at Shinra Capitol.”

Cloud bristled slightly, but he didn’t move, even when Rufus offered his hand. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and tossed his head at Rufus in greeting.

Rufus took it in stride, smirking, clearly amused as he retracted his hand and dipped it into his pocket instead. He watched Cloud for just a moment before he turned his eyes back on her.

“Enjoying the tree, Tifa?” he asked her, emphasizing her name a little too much before he nodded up at the spruce that towered over them.

“I could ask you the same,” she fired, hot with anger, her knee beginning to buckle and sway.

“Ah, Tseng and I were just going for a stroll, discussing some legal matters, boring things, really,” he replied, gesturing to Tseng at his side, who stood as still as a statue, his hands folded in front of him. “Tseng is my lawyer,” he said to Cloud, who just stared at him as if he simply did not give a fuck.

“Wonderful,” Tifa muttered, turning back to the tree, hoping beyond all hopes that he would just leave.

Rufus seemed to take the hint, though he let a few beats pass, staring at her face and searing it with heat. Cloud was now shifting in his seat, rolling his shoulders.

“Well, we will leave you to it, then,” Rufus finally said after a moment. “Merry Christmas, Cloud and Tifa.”

Tifa glanced back at him, watching as he turned and walked away, Tseng flanking his side again. They made off in the direction of Fifth Avenue, their figures disappearing into the throng of visitors, Rufus’ hair still shimmering gold beneath the sun.

“Who is that guy?” Cloud asked the instant he was gone, and Tifa felt serrated by the harshness in his tone.

“He’s nobody important,” she answered quickly, echoing her same sentiments to him the night that Rufus had called her on the rooftop in Bensonhurst, the last time he had punctured what she was certain was a moment between them. “I’m going to be working with him when I start at Shinra, that’s all. He’s a smug asshole.”

At that, she saw the side of Cloud’s mouth turn up into a slight smirk.

Even so, for the rest of the day, as they walked through the city and eventually rode the train back to Brooklyn, he was quiet and withdrawn, the tension pulled stiff between them like a tightrope.

And inside, Tifa wanted to scream, but she also wanted to mourn - mourn the opportunities and moments that were dying all around her, killed off by a fate that she was seemingly destined to but had no hand in shaping.

* * *

“Hey, man,” Zack was banging on his bedroom door, causing Cloud to wince in aggravation. “You gonna come out of there at some point tonight? It’s almost nine and I am NOT leaving without you.”

Cloud shook his head, staring up at his ceiling, studying the same web of cracks in the paint that he’d been looking up at for hours and days. Across the room, his television was softly playing the sounds of an action-drama series that Cloud had tried and failed repeatedly to get into, desperately seeking refuge from his own thoughts.

The truth was, his head was fucking mess, and he couldn’t concentrate on a goddamn thing. He was plagued by distraction, torn between debilitating flashbacks that had become recurring and practically impossible to endure, and endless, hopeless pining for Tifa Lockhart.

The former was simply painful, there was no better way to look at it. With so much idle time spent sitting around staring out of a glass booth at work, or wasting away in his apartment or Prospect Park, staring at his laptop’s blank screen, Cloud’s mind pulsed with the dull ache of the war and the effects it had left behind on his psyche. Nightly, he was torn from sleep with visions of the desert and the men he had seen perish right in front of his eyes under the tatter of sniper fire or the bright flames of a detonated explosive. He and Zack never talked about it, but their squadron had not been very fortunate during their last tour, and the remnants of a particular ambush that had killed their comrades Kunsel, Essai, and Sebastian continued to infiltrate his skull, the scene replaying in a bloody, endless loop throughout nightmares that left him waking with a start in a cold sweat.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, his relationship with Tifa was a pressure cooker, ready to boil over and burst apart. He could no longer fight his attraction to her and was eager to just get his feelings out into the open, goddamn what the fallout might be. But Tifa kept insisting that they were fucking friends, even when she continued to text and call him and invite him to trips into the city that felt too much like fucking dates even though they both tried to pretend they were not. And twice, he was sure that the electricity would finally snap through them and that the tension would break at last; he was sure that they would fucking kiss, and both goddamn times it had been ruined by that prick Rufus Shinra.

Rufus fucking Shinra. Cloud absolutely hated him. Hours after that asshole had called Tifa’s phone during their Thanksgiving rooftop celebration in Bensonhurst, Cloud had Googled the motherfucker, unable to resist the temptation of getting insight into the jerk that had Tifa’s personal number and had the gall to call her phone late at night as if it were perfectly natural.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

To his great dismay and annoyance, Cloud learned from his search that Rufus Shinra was tall and good looking and filthy fucking rich. In every photo he wore the same smug simper, sometimes offering his arrogant glance directly to the camera, other times ignoring it completely and letting the paparazzi have at it with their candid shots of him. And there were too many shitty articles about him, all about his money and his financial prowess and his charisma and his new fucking promotion at Shinra.

And Tifa was going to be working for that son-of-a-bitch?

Cloud couldn’t stop thinking about it, Tifa working side by side with a scumbag like that, spending most of her waking hours with him. It burned him up in ways that he hadn’t felt since leaving the army, rendering him surly and short-tempered, snapping at Zack for no good reason and spending most of his free time sealed up in his room, brooding over his laptop or his journal, or staring bleary-eyed at the television as he tried to digest shows and content that were not landing with any particular coherence at all.

He wanted to believe, desperately even, that Tifa would never go for a rich, pompous asshole like Rufus Shinra. He was the antithesis of everything that Tifa believed in and stood for. Yet still, a tiny part of him nagged away at his subconscious, reinforcing the fact that Rufus was everything that he was not, that he had so much more to offer her than Cloud ever could. And maybe, that just might be enough, especially since he and Tifa were still just fucking friends.

_Goddammit to hell_.

“Cloud?” Zack banged again. “Get dressed. We are leaving soon, and you know Tifa is going to be upset if you don’t come.”

_Goddamnit._ Why did he did have to bring her name up?

The gods were really screwing with him, because then his phone buzzed at his side, and Cloud looked down to see her name staring up at him along with her cute little blue heart.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Hey! Aerith and I are ready. This is going to be so much fun. Let me know when you guys are ready. We’ll meet you outside for the cab. I’ll see you soon_

_Goddamnit._

“Hurry up, Cloud,” Zack continued to bark. “I’m calling the cab in twenty minutes.”

Cloud sighed, finally pushing himself up on his bed, shaking his head out. It was New Year’s Eve, and, under Jessie’s pleading and prodding, AVALANCHE had splurged and booked a connection of suites on the top floor of the Williamsburg Hotel, right there in the center of Brooklyn. Barret had been completely disagreeable about the ridiculous expenditure of money, but Jessie had been relentless, and eventually, he caved into the demands of youth and allowed it to happen.

Cloud really didn’t want to go to a fucking hotel party. He could just imagine all of Tifa’s friends getting completely wasted and driving him insane, Jessie and Aerith undoubtedly the worst of all. And it sounded like a noisy and arduous affair that would just leave him with a headache.

Beyond all of that, Cloud was just straight-up nervous about spending time so close to Tifa. Ever since their day in Rockefeller Center just a little over a week ago, Cloud could not climb his way out of his feelings for her. He had been completely prepared to throw all caution to the wind concerning her as they sat together in front of the holiday tree in the center of the plaza, ready to press his lips to hers and finally test the boundaries of their relationship.

And then that prick had shown up.

Now, Cloud didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t handle being around her without feeling like he was going to collapse from the stack of feelings that were building deep inside of him for her. He couldn’t even text her without getting an erection at this point, and all any of this was doing was making him fucking depressed.

Still, Zack was right about one thing. Tifa _would_ be upset if he didn’t show up to this stupid fucking party. And so, he got to his feet and opened the door, finding Zack leaning against it.

“I heard you loud and clear,” Cloud muttered, shouldering past him. “Move outta my way so I can shower.”

“I hope you fix your attitude before we leave, Sunshine!” Zack gibed, just as Cloud slid into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Sometime later, after he’d showered and dressed in black chinos and a dark grey zip-up sweater, Zack and Cloud made their way out of the apartment, crossing the street to Tifa and Aerith’s brownstone, the girls coming outside as soon as they approached.

Already, Cloud felt things begin to fall apart. Tifa looked fucking stunning, even with her wool peacoat shielding most of her body and whatever spectacular outfit Cloud was certain she was wearing. She was wearing that smattering of kohl around her eyes, winged at the corners and thicker than usual, and it made her eyes ever wider and brighter, the crimson of her irises crashing against her heavy, dark lashes. Tonight, she’d left her hair down, and it was flowing long around her shoulders in a shimmering, inky spill, her fringe perfectly framing her face. Golden crescent moon earrings hung from her lobes, catching the glint of the streetlights overhead.

Her eyes lit up with a smile as soon as she saw him, and Cloud wanted nothing more to see them flicker and burst up at him like that with her pinned beneath him, his hand wrapped around her throat.

“Heya,” she greeted him as they approached, and Cloud almost lost it.

“Hey,” he responded lamely, rubbing the back of his neck, unable to tear his gaze away from her face.

“There’s our cab,” Aerith cried as a yellow taxi approached, mercifully drawing Tifa’s attention away from him. Though it didn’t help that the four of them had to cram into the back seat of the cab together, and of course he wound up seated next to Tifa, her body transferring its warmth to his and the scent of vanilla creme cakes filling his senses as it drifted away from her skin.

_Fuck._

It was a small blessing that the ride across the borough wasn’t very long, and they were deposited outside of the Williamsburg Hotel a short time later. It was a towering brick building with fat, glossy glass windows, and a cylindrical rotunda at its apex. Inside, it was far chicer than anything Cloud had seen since moving to the city, black and white checkered floors surrounded by aquamarine furniture and bronze finishings.

“The gang is on the top floor,” Tifa informed them as they made their way toward the elevators.

As soon as they’d walked inside, both girls had opted to shed their coats, and Cloud shamelessly could not take his eyes off of Tifa the instant she revealed her outfit. He stared at her, wondering if she was purposefully teasing him. She had dressed in a form-fitting, chocolate brown sweater dress that hugged her curves all the way down her body, stopping mid-thigh, complete with a cowl-neck that dipped just slightly enough to show a hint of cleavage. The dress was belted at the waist with a wide strip of black leather that was clasped at the center with a gold crescent moon that matched her earrings.

But the thigh highs. She was wearing fucking thigh highs again, dark brown to match her dress and just slightly sheer enough to show a faint glimpse of her skin beneath. And to make matters even worse, she was wearing black, stiletto, lace-up suede boots.

Yeah. She was definitely fucking with him.

He stayed at the back of their group, his eyes glued to her ass as they took the elevators to the top floor and found the suites that AVALANCHE had rented, a collection of several large rooms that were connected by narrow doorways. 

Cloud was pleasantly surprised that the party was actually a really small affair, host to just a few of AVALANCHE’s core members, relieving a little bit of his social anxiety about the entire night. As they entered the main room, they found most of the gang already seated in the living room, on the couch and in chairs, some seated at the dining room table that was just across the room. Barret was seated in the center of the couch, nearly consuming its entirety, Gwen close at his side and his good arm wrapped around the back of the couch behind her. Wedge and Wymer were playing cards at the table.

And of course, Jessie was already in Bigg’s lap.

“Now we can really get this party started,” Jessie immediately declared, holding her red cup in the air and gesturing wildly. “Drinks are on the sidebar. Fill up and let’s go.”

“Who is watching the kids?” was the first thing out of Tifa’s mouth when she noticed Barret and Gwen sitting together.

“At home with Folia,” Barret replied, holding his beer up. “Ya know she’s not much of a drinker, so she offered to stay in.”

Cloud was marveled at the fact that the big man was still wearing his sunglasses indoors, once again.

Aerith clasped her hands in front of her. “Cloud, Tifa, why don’t you guys sit down on that loveseat over there? Zack and I will get you your drinks!”

Cloud wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

“Nothing too strong,” Tifa warned, as if she was reading his mind.

“Don’t be silly,” Aerith waved her off, following Zack to the sidebar, immediately reaching for a bottle of vodka.

“There’s plenty, so y’all don’t be shy,” Barret roared from his seat on the couch, tipping back his beer again. 

Cloud glanced at the loveseat that Aerith had pointed at, finding it a tight squeeze and awfully intimate. If he sat next to Tifa on that thing, he would be right on top of her.

Sweet Jesus, did he want to be on top of her.

He shook that thought from his head, watching Tifa move across the room to drop into it. She scooted carefully over to one side, then glanced up at him, waiting.

_Fuck_.

Cloud shed his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack by the door, then followed Tifa and slid into the seat next to her. This definitely _was_ a loveseat, because he was instantly pressed shoulder to shoulder against her. Once again, he was captivated by her body heat and the confectionary aromas that drifted off of her skin and bled into his entire awareness.

“You guys got perfect timing,” Biggs was saying, holding up a beer of his own, one arm wrapped around Jessie’s waist, who was absently toying with his dark hair as she sipped her drink. “The ball is gonna drop in a little bit.” He gestured to the television.

“Just enough time to get good and drunk before it hits!” Wedge called from the table across the room.

Tifa emitted a tiny chuckle at his side at that, and Cloud was instantly aware of how close she was once again, his heart beginning to throb almost painfully.

“I love Anderson Cooper,” Gwen said. “He does such a great job, especially with Kathie Griffin.”

“I still say Dick Clark is the classic,” Barret grumbled, waving a hand in the air.

Aerith appeared a moment later with two red cups in hand. She offered them to Cloud and Tifa, and Cloud stared down into his to find it almost full with a dark pink liquid.

“Cranberry and vodka, can’t go wrong with that!” Aerith cheered, just as Zack sank into the armchair next to them. “And don’t complain about how strong it is, Tifa. It’s New Year’s Eve!”

Cloud watched as she sashayed away and then fell into Zack’s lap, who was grinning up at her as if there was no one else in the room. It was sickening.

The drinks _were_ strong, and Aerith and Jessie kept pouring, even after the ball dropped sometime later and the midnight hour rang in the New Year. By that time, most of the gang was already quite drunk, and Cloud could feel the alcohol wrapping tight around his brain, pulling him under.

And Tifa was next to him, looped into the conversations with her friends that were happening around him, occasionally turning to glance up at him with a smile, and he wanted so badly to put his arm around her and swipe his tongue across her neck.

Friends. They were friends, right?

“So, you guys know that I am going to be _that_ person,” Jessie was now slurring, turning away from where she had ruffled Biggs’ dark hair into a messy mop. She was looking directly at Cloud and Tifa again, and Cloud instantly wished that the floor would just devour him. “We’ve got all these rooms here. I know I for one can’t wait to claim one.”

She turned back to Biggs, threading her fingers through his hair once again, and Cloud could see the man blush at the way she stared down at him.

But of course, she was turning her attention back to them an instant later. “How much do you guys want to bet that tonight is _finally_ Cloud and Tifa’s night?”

“Speaking of rooms,” Barret interrupted mercifully, causing Jessie to frown. “I think I’m down for the count. Can’t keep up with you kids.” He got to his feet, almost hitting the ceiling as he stretched. “C’mon, Gwen.”

Gwen was up and at his side, one arm looped through his as they disappeared into one of the connecting rooms down the hall.

“Okay,” Biggs said as soon as they were gone. “How long has _that_ been going on?”

Wymer chortled from across the room. “Oh, that’s been going on for a long while,” he admitted. “Barret doesn’t usually put his business out there, but it looks like he’s past caring.”

“I think they’re cute,” Tifa added at his side.

_I think you’re cute_ , Cloud couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

“What?” Tifa turned to him, eyebrows raising.

_Shit shit shit._ Had he said that out loud? What the fuck!

“They are cute,” he quickly clarified, and he sounded like an idiot, because it was not something that he would ever fucking say. Tifa just stared at him for a moment, before she nodded and turned back to her drink.

Thankfully, it seemed like they were all too drunk to notice or dwell on it.

Eventually, Wedge and Wymer departed for the evening, leaving the three couples still drinking in the living room, Aerith and Zack claiming the couch now that Barret and Gwen had vacated it, pawing at each other as they bantered back and forth with Jessie and Biggs about a bunch of shit that Cloud was having a difficult time following and couldn’t give a rat’s ass about, anyway. He was just glad that they had seemed to move on from their interest in his lack of a sex life with Tifa.

Tifa was mostly quiet, watching the television and sipping her drink, warm at his side. Cloud could definitely feel the effects of the alcohol pulsing through his system by now, leaving him feeling unnaturally warm and a little woozy and lightheaded. He was also feeling his inhibitions begin to drop, and the longer he sat next to Tifa, the hotter he grew and the faster his heart pounded and the more he wanted her.

It soon grew very late, and even Jessie, Aerith, and Zack ran out of steam. Biggs was the first to push up to his feet, his arm around Jessie’s waist.

“Night, kids,” he said to them. “We’re gonna turn in.”

“Won’t be getting much sleep, though,” Jessie laughed, and Biggs blushed again, pushing her towards the hallway to one of the rooms.

“I’m in agreement with that. Come on, Zack,” Aerith was at her feet next, gently pulling on Zack’s wrist. “Let’s give Cloud and Tifa some privacy. You guys can have the room down that hallway,” she pointed.

Zack was instantly at his feet, following behind Aerith like a heeled puppy. “Don’t stay up too late, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he laughed, tipping a salute in Cloud’s direction, and Cloud just shook his head as they disappeared.

Cloud glanced down at Tifa, finding her sipping her drink again, her eyes glassy. He turned a little in his seat to face her.

“You okay?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, his voice far too low and tenebrous for his liking.

Tifa pulled her cup away from her lips, looking up at him, her pupils blown wide and the scarlet in her irises sparkling as she nodded slowly.

“I’m okay,” she told him, her words slurring just a little bit. “Do you… do you want to go in the room?”

Cloud almost thought he was going deaf, his heart was thundering so loudly in his chest. Her voice had been so tentative and small, as if she was terrified of the question she’d asked, and Cloud couldn’t take his eyes off of her lips, so pouty and glossy and full, parted and begging for him to kiss them.

If they went into that room, there would be no turning back, he knew.

“Yes,” he answered far too enthusiastically, then adjusted with a toss of his head. “Yeah. Okay.”

Tifa smiled at him, the true, genuine smile that he saw so rarely from her, though it was mystified just a little bit by the haze of alcohol. She was then at her feet, taking his hand in hers and gently tugging at him as she led him away.

_Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshit._

Cloud watched her hips sway the entire time they walked through the suite to the remaining bedroom in the rear, swathed in darkness save for the wash of moonlight that draped over the bed from the window above. He quietly closed the door behind him, following Tifa into the center of the room to where she’d stopped by the foot of the bed.

She was still facing away from him, glancing up at the window and the moon and starlight that filtered in through the wide panels of glass. Cloud’s eyes trailed her dark river of silken hair, falling again past her hips and the round curve of her rear, stopping when he saw her fingers clench gently at her thighs.

“Cloud…?” she was saying, and Cloud was instantly stepping closer to her, pulled in by gravity.

“Tifa.”

At the sound of her whispered name on his lips, Tifa turned around to face him, and Cloud only had a fraction of a second to look into the swirly merlot of her eyes before her arms were around his neck and her body was pressed tight against his. His brain collapsed in on itself when she crushed her lips against his, her tongue tapping gently at the seam of his mouth as she moaned.

Cloud had always imagined that the first time that he kissed Tifa Lockhart, it would be slow and careful and closed-lipped and sweet. He was completely unprepared for this sudden, demanding passion, all heat and urgency, her mouth claiming his as if it had always belonged to her.

And maybe it had, Cloud thought, opening his mouth to hers, accepting her, the alcohol still blurring his senses.

He almost didn’t realize that Tifa was backing him up towards the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he was falling back onto it, clumsily managing to brace himself with his hands behind him at his sides. Tifa was now holding both sides of his face between her palms, her tongue curling around his before she drew back to suck on his bottom lip. Instantly, Cloud’s vision whited out.

_Do something,_ he screamed at himself, but he was frozen, especially as Tifa began to crawl over him, pushing him back against the soft comforter of the hotel’s bed.

Cloud continued kissing Tifa, savoring the feel of her mouth, the taste of her cherry lip gloss and the cranberry and vodka she’d been drinking all night staining his tongue. Dumbstruck, he watched as she pulled away, her palm dropping to his groin and running flat and smooth over his erection as she lowered herself over him.

“Tif..ah…” her name fell from his lips like a warning, but Tifa’s eyes sparkled like red, stained glass windows as she looked up at him, something almost like reverence in her gaze.

“Shhhh,” she breathed, and Cloud felt himself get painfully harder beneath her grip. “Just..let me have this moment.”

He watched her as she lowered herself to her knees on the floor, still petting him gently through his pants, her eyes devilish and misbehaving. She then brought both hands up to his belt, undoing the buckle and opening it before attacking the buttons and zipper of his pants.

_Fuck fuck fuck holy fuck._

Her hand was pulling his erection free, and as soon as her soft skin met his, he bucked his hips up towards her hand, unable to contain himself. He sat up on his elbows and glanced down at her, finding her smiling playfully at him as she wrapped her entire fist around his cock and began to pump.

Cloud closed his eyes and tipped his head back towards the ceiling, the pleasure an agonizing sensation building low in his belly and setting his nerves on fire as she worked him carefully in her hand. Every time she pulled up on him, he was compelled to rut into her hand, his mind blankly working through the blend of arousal and alcohol to wonder that, if her hand felt this good, what would it feel like to be inside of her?

At that pleasant thought, Cloud’s head snapped back up, glancing down at her at the feel of her wet tongue pressed to the head of his cock. She was staring up at him as if seeking his approval, but Cloud could barely nod his head, let alone form any words. He watched as she flicked her tongue across his flesh, before she wrapped her entire mouth around him, lowering her lips a little more each time she moved down and across him, wet and hot and completely on fire.

Holy fucking shit, he had his cock in Tifa Lockhart’s mouth, and she was draining the fucking life out of him.

Cloud couldn’t handle it for long, especially as he forced himself to watch her as she bobbed up and down on him, tears springing from the corners of her eyes and her back arched so that her ass was poked out in the air behind her. Just as she began to move faster over him, his entire dick slick with her saliva, Cloud felt the cloudburst inside of him, his brain snapping as he broke and came down her throat with a moan.

“Fuck,” he swore out loud for the first time around her.

Tifa pulled away from him, and he watched in complete awe as she visibly swallowed his spend before wiping the corner of her mouth with a bent knuckle, offering him a smile.

“Sorry,” she said, and Cloud couldn’t fucking imagine why the fuck she was apologizing. “I’ve never done that before.”

_Goddamnit holy fuck_.

“Come here,” he growled at her, leaning up and pulling her upper arms so that she was hovering above him again. As soon as he had a sure grip on her, he flipped her onto her back on the center of the bed and crawled over her, instantly slotting his mouth over hers and kissing her deeply, tasting his salt on her tongue. When she moaned into his mouth, Cloud lost his wits, and he broke the kiss and pulled back from her, staring down at her face.

She was misty-eyed, her gaze locked with his, her hips rotating gently beneath him in a siren call, and she was so, so, pretty, Cloud just wanted to devour her, his forever.

“Tifa…”

“Cloud,” she whispered back, and the desperate need was so evident in her voice that it cracked right in the middle of his name.

He got to work instantly, dropping his lips to her neck, kissing and licking and biting her smooth, soft flesh, feeling the heat and her pulse beneath his tongue. She writhed under him, arching her back, her breathing steadily becoming labored. Cloud ran his hands over the expanse of her body, discovering a winding trail from her hips to her breasts, which he cupped and squeezed before he grabbed at the cowl neckline of her dress, pulling on it so roughly that he heard the seams tear and give way as he lowered it enough to discover her black bra beneath. Seeing the soft, milky white flesh of her breasts below, Cloud’s heart was slamming against the center of his throat as he deftly pulled the lacy black fabric out of the way, freeing her perfect, pale pink nipples, already hard and ready and yearning for him.

God, Tifa was so so pretty and so so perfect.

He carefully brought his lips to one nipple, swiping at it with his tongue, wetting it with a string of saliva, watching her as he moved. Tifa’s jaw dropped open, and he was fully enamored when she let one hand drift to his scalp, toying with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Oh,” she breathed above him, arching her back again and pushing her nipple against his tongue.

Cloud took the entire peak into his mouth then, suckling on it, one hand gently squeezing her opposite breast and working her into an absolute frenzy. As he dragged his teeth gently across her skin, Tifa moaned again and lifted her hips from the bed.

“Cloud,” she begged, and Cloud had an indication of what she might be asking him for.

Cloud sucked her a little bit more for good measure before he backed away, dropping her nipple from his mouth and leaving the top of her dress torn and disheveled. He slid lower down her body, his hands running smoothly down her waist and over those full, voluptuous hips that had completely enraptured him for the last three months. He trailed past them, finding the hem of her dress, skirting over the gap of flesh just above her thigh highs. He stopped there, sliding his finger under the hem of one and letting it snap back against her skin.

“I love these fucking things on you,” he told her, looking up to meet her eyes, and Tifa just smiled at him, her finger coy at the corner of her mouth.

Cloud brought his hands up to the hem of her dress, his heart palpitating as he began to push it up, up, and up, Tifa lifting up to assist him with riding it over her hips. As soon as it was bunched around her waist, Cloud snaked his hands behind her to grasp palmfuls of her bottom, squeezing her soft, full flesh as he stared in wonderment at her black lace panties that shielded her arousal from him, noting the dampness in their center.

“Fuck,” he cursed again, and Tifa was rolling her hips again, encouraging him. Cloud pulled his hands away from her ass and brought them to the waistband of her underwear, and instantly Tifa was raising her hips again, waiting for him to slide them off.

“Cloud,” she breathed his name again, and he fucking lost it for the third time. Without waiting another second, he pulled them away, down to her ankles, where he realized that she was still wearing her boots. Cussing internally, he took a moment to unzip them and slide them off of her feet, before he tossed them away somewhere along with his own shoes, her panties next joining the melee on the floor.

He crawled back over her, and Tifa was already spreading her thighs for him, causing several rounds to misfire in the back of his skull. He stared in amazement at the presentation of her, noticing at once that her pussy was shaved with the exception of a small strip of curls on her mound. Instantly, he was assaulted with the beauty of her arousal, her inner lips rosy and pink and her clit hard and her entrance tight and all of it _wet wet wet_ as she leaked right in front of him.

God, Tifa was so so pretty and so so perfect. All of her.

“Cloud,” she called to him again.

Cloud almost didn’t know what to do, he was so overwhelmed by the sight of her. But instinct kicked in, combined with a strong desire to take care of her and make her feel good and have her crying out beneath him with her mouth open wide the way he had dreamed about for so, so long. He carefully brought one finger up to her folds, gently running across them and dipping into her wetness, swirling it over her flesh as he began to pet her softly.

“Higher,” she demanded immediately, and Cloud looked up at her clit, pink and hard and _holy fuck_.

He lifted his finger to it, rubbing it gently, and instantly, Tifa’s entire body began to lock up and seize, her legs spreading further and her hands dropping to either side of her hips, fisting the covers into twisted knots. Cloud was mystified by her reaction, and as he continued to rub, adding a little more pressure, he glanced up to find her face contorted in pleasure in a way that set his soul on fire.

“Oh, oh,” she was moaning, her eyes only half-open before she suddenly pinched them shut. “Oh, Cloud, that’s so good, baby. Mmm.”

That was enough to put him in his grave. He looked back down at her sex, finding her dripping so badly her translucent liquids were sliding down the crease of her ass and greeting the sheets. Cloud was sure he was en route to experience a coronary event.

Her moans were beginning to throttle him now, and all he was doing was rubbing at her clit with his fingertip. This was too good to be true, he couldn’t help thinking. He decided to test a new theory.

Without warning, he dropped his lips to her flesh and ran his tongue over her clit with a slow and careful lick.

“Oh!” Tifa shouted, her hips buckling, her back arching, her head tossed from one side to the other, her hair sliding like an oil spill across the sheets. Cloud’s heartbeat picked up pace instantly, fire screaming through his veins and electricity scorching every synapse in his brain.

“More,” she begged.

What Tifa wanted, Tifa got.

Cloud began to lap at her clit in earnest, dragging the flat of his tongue over her flesh and relishing in her sweet, zesty flavor, bright and tart with a candied honeyness that had his eyes rolling in the back of his head. He savored the sweet, blissful sounds she was making, deep husky moans alternated with bright shouts and cries of his name, her fingers threading through his hair and clutching him tightly.

She was so, so wet by now, leaking everywhere and making a mess, and Cloud loved it, completely unable to stop himself from bringing his finger back to her pussy and toying gently at her entrance, testing it before slipping inside to feel her, her walls clenching around him as he gently poked and prodded until he found a smooth spot that had her wailing when he pressed it. Encouraged, he added a second to join the first and slowly began to fuck her with his fingers, wrapping his mouth around her clit and sucking on it between his lips, his tongue still flicking at its sides.

The noise that Tifa was making began to escalate into full-blown sobs and wails, and Cloud was certain that if anyone was still awake in this suite, they were hearing all of this. He didn’t give a fuck, though. He was making Tifa Lockhart come and he was doing a damn good job of it.

“Cloud, Cloud, Cloud,” she started to chant. “Oh my god, Cloud, baby… I’m going to…”

He could feel Tifa’s entire body coil tight under him as he sucked and pressed deep inside her, and she finally broke apart, crying out his name in one final, forlorn wail. He stopped sucking and pressing like mad and instead kept his lips and fingers stilled against her flesh, waiting for her to ride out the incredible high, her hands now dragged away from his hair and slamming against the mattress as she wept.

Finally, she seemed thoroughly spent, and she tried to slide away from him, slamming her thighs shut around his head. Dazed, Cloud pulled back from her and climbed back up, lowering himself to his side beside her.

“Good?” he asked, wiping his mouth, unable to avoid the smugness that was laced in his tone.

Tifa’s eyes were wide and glassy and wet as she stared at him with that same look of love in her eyes she had given him on the rooftop and under the tree in Rockefeller Center. But she said nothing, instead rocking into him, lacing her arms around his neck, tossing one leg over his hips as she snuggled herself against him tightly, her dress still bunched up around her waist and her inner thighs stained with her own stickiness.

“So sleepy,” she whispered, and Cloud realized, stunned, that almost instantly, she had fallen under.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him and resting his chin atop her head. He could feel the drunken borders of sleep begin to close in on him, too.

But he could only think one thing before he drifted off and fell into a very inebriated slumber.

He was truly, madly, deeply in love with Tifa Lockhart.

_Hell, yes_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...alright, so I guess you can stop threatening to murder me now? *tommyhaha*
> 
> Also, shout out to @Ushijoy1, whose art inspired by this fic in turn inspired the gifts that Cloud and Tifa exchanged in this chapter. Thank you so much!!
> 
> See you all in a week or two! 💫💜💋


	5. If Constellations Hold Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _says nothing about the chapter count_
> 
> Welcome! Thank you to everyone for your positivity around this story, your amazing feedback, and for reaching out to me on other platforms. I'm so in love with this fandom!
> 
> This chapter takes its name from a line in The Midnight Song "Brooklyn".
> 
> Thanks to spaceodementia for her beta work as always.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter Five 

If Constellations Hold Together

“Tifa? Cloud?”

Cloud could just barely distinguish the high-pitched, sunny voice that pierced through his fog of sleep, greeting him with the same bright burst of awareness that the sunlight streaming through the window above was burning his eyelids with. Groaning, he shifted, feeling a stiffness in his left arm, hearing a light wrapping at the door.

“Tifa, Cloud. We have to check out soon!”

Cloud groaned, opening his eyes with several long, slow blinks, craning his neck to get a glimpse of his surroundings. Immediately, he awakened to the fact he was inside of a plush hotel room that was decorated in shades of creams and light teals, but more importantly was the warmth that was crushed against his body, responsible for the numbing sensations in his arm.

He looked down to find Tifa splayed across him, her arm still wrapped around his waist, a leg flung over his hips, her hair a tangled, fanned out sprawl of black across her back and shoulders. Her face was concealed, buried into his chest. He felt his cheeks warm when he realized that he too had his arm wrapped around her, but that his palm was splayed over her bare ass, her dress bunched all the way up to her waist, her thigh-highs torn and sliding down her legs.

Awareness of this sight crashed into him at the exact same moment that the first spark of a blinding white pain hit his temples, alerting him to the quickly developing hangover that was working its way through his every nerve ending. Wincing and trying to wade through his muddled thoughts, Cloud carefully shifted Tifa away from him so that he could sit up.

Instantly, the flood of memories from the night before began to return to him, each with a new pulsing beat of pain against his skull. Tifa, taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom. Tifa, turning to him in the moonlight and pressing her lips against his in desperation. Tifa, pushing him down onto the bed and pulling his pants open. Tifa, looking up at him with tears and need in her eyes, his cock in her mouth and tapping the back of her throat.

Him, flipping her over and sucking the flesh of her neck between his teeth. Him, ripping apart the neckline of her dress. Him, pushing her dress up and her panties down and drowning in the sight of her slick, shaved pussy, pink and wet and swollen just for him. Him, licking and sucking and flicking her most intimate parts, his finger curling inside of her until she cried.

Tifa, looking down at him with her fingers tangled in his hair, calling him _baby_ throughout it all.

_What the fuck._

“Cloud, Tifa!” _Aerith_. It was Aerith’s fucking voice that was screeching on the other side of the door, flaring the headache that was becoming an entire band of pain across his forehead. “You guys have to get up! We have to leave, it’s almost eleven!”

_Fuck_.

Cloud glanced down at Tifa, who had rolled onto her belly with her arms over her head on the pillow when he’d sat up. With this change in position, her round bottom was entirely on display, and she had bent one knee upward, offering a magnificent shot of her pretty pink pussy, leaving him disbelieving that he’d had his face pressed between there just a few hours ago. 

Cloud couldn’t help but stare at the sight for long moments before he remembered himself and blushed even more furiously, panicking slightly at the state of affairs as Aerith continued to knock on the door. Glancing at Tifa’s rumpled dress, he wondered if he should try to fix it before she woke up. Would it be weird or pervy to fix a girl’s clothes while she was still passed out? Wouldn’t she be embarrassed if she woke up in this condition?

“Tifa!” Aerith demanded.

_Goddamnit._

Impulsively, Cloud reached for Tifa’s waist, ambling to find the hem of her dress. Instantly, his knuckles brushed against warm skin, and Tifa made a kitten-like sound, leaning toward him and spreading her legs even further, and Cloud’s brain began to fizzle and smoke.

_I can’t do this._

Somehow, though, he managed, snagging the soft material and pulling it down over her hips and the curve of her rear end until she was somewhat decent. He stared at her for a moment longer, watching her sleep, cocking his head to one side as he studied the way that her shoulders rose and fell with her calm breathing.

Hearing Aerith’s disgruntled huffs and puffs on the other side of the door, Cloud gently began to nudge Tifa’s shoulder.

“Hey, Tifa,” he called to her softly. “Tifa, wake up. Time to go home.”

It took several more tries before Tifa roused, groggily pulling herself from the throes of a deep, drunken sleep. She rolled to her back and looked up at him, blinking slowly in complete disorientation, before he saw her wince, knowing that her hangover was likely setting in.

Her hair was tangled and frizzed around her shoulders, and her dark makeup was smudged around her eyes, leaving her looking as if she had been through a three-round knockout. To make matters worse, she brought a fist up, rubbing the sleep out of one eye, smearing the kohl even further.

“Cloud?” she trilled up at him, blinking as if in utter confusion.

Cloud felt his heart begin to pick up speed, sending all of the blood in his body straight to his cheeks. “H-hey, Teef,” he spluttered. “Uh, we gotta go. Check-out time.”

“Teee-FA!” Aerith called with another bang to the door as if to emphasize this point.

Tifa was looking down at the state of her dress, noting the torn cowl-neck and her disheveled bra and the way her skirt was ridden up nearly to her hips. A beat passed before her eyes widened slightly and she was slowly turning to look back up at him again.

“Cloud…?”

_Oh, fuck,_ he thought. _Please don’t tell me she doesn’t remember._

But it seemed that she did, because suddenly her cheeks were bright red, and she was sitting up even straighter, swinging her legs off of the bed and fixing her dress.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Cloud,” she blubbered in one sloppy rush. “I didn’t mean to…” she trailed off, lowering her face to her hands in humiliation, clearly overcome with memories of their shared passions the nights before.

Why the fuck was she apologizing?

Panicking, Cloud’s mind raced through a thousand possible reactions, before his body acted on its own accord, and he had his arms around her, pulling her toward him as he offered her a tight embrace, similar to the way she had pulled him toward her so many weeks ago in the hallway outside of his apartment. He felt her grow stiff for just a moment.

“Don’t apologize, Tifa,” he coaxed softly into her hair, his hands flat against her upper back.

She shivered, then leaned in, wrapping her arms around him and accepting his hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered almost inaudibly against his sweater.

She dipped her forehead against his shoulder, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Cloud thought that maybe, they were going to be alright.

“I am going to break this door down,” Aerith’s muffled voice threatened.

Tifa pulled away from him at that, harshly breaking the connection, shaking her head out. Cloud let his arms fall limply to his sides as he watched her rake her fingers through her hair and tug on her clothing in an attempt to right everything into place.

“I really have to pee,” Tifa finally said, bending down to pick up her boots where he had tossed them the night before. “I’ll see you downstairs in a few.”

He noticed that her cheeks were still bright red, but she was moving quickly, turning away from him without another word and making for the door. He caught a glimpse of Aerith in the doorway as it opened, her auburn hair almost as wild as Tifa’s had been and her face just as haggard from lack of sleep.

When the door closed, Cloud shook his head, dropping it into his hands. Somehow, despite the incredible high of the night before, their relationship had just fallen into even more precarious waters. There was no doubting the thick tension that surrounded Tifa after she realized what had happened, the fog of alcohol now dispelled. What he wasn’t sure of was what was laced behind that tension, whether it was simply confusion or uncertainty, or far worse, regret. 

A gleam of gold in the sunlight that streamed from above caught his eye, and Cloud pushed a pillow aside to find that Tifa had lost one of her crescent moon earrings at some point during the night. He gingerly picked it up, turning it over between his fingers, catching its glint in the sun and remembering vaguely how it had sparkled under the moonlight the night before.

Without thinking about it, he slid it into his pocket.

After long moments of trying to clear the smog from his head, Cloud finally got up to pull his boots on, straightening and brushing off his clothes and running his fingers through his hair to placate it somewhat. Just as he was about to leave the room, he spotted a small strip of black lace fabric strewn to the floor in one corner.

Tifa’s panties.

His neck hot, Cloud stared at them for a long, uncomfortable moment before he bent forward and swiped them up, stuffing them into his pocket as he left the room.

The ride across Brooklyn was arduous, and Cloud had almost wished that they had taken separate cabs home. The backseat of the taxi smelled like a brewery, and all four of them looked like they had been run over by trucks. Zack sat with his head tipped against one window, his eyes squeezed shut tight in pain, while Aerith _talked_. She talked the entire ride, complaining about her hangover, about how a little bit of weed would cure all of them, about how she couldn’t wait to juice some vegetables and get some antioxidants into her system. Blessedly, she said nothing about what had obviously occurred between him and Tifa that night, and Zack was too hungover and tired to care about teasing anyone.

And of course, Cloud was squished next to Tifa again, who sat with her coat wrapped tightly around her, her knees pressed together. Apparently, her thigh-highs had been unsalvageable after last night, because she was no longer wearing them, her legs bare and clearly feeling the chill of the January air.

And Cloud couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she was sitting next to him panty-less, wondering if she had bothered to look for them, wondering if she would flip out if she knew he had them in his pocket, wondering if he was some kind of pervert for taking them in the first place.

_Fuck it._

Eventually, the taxi dropped them off at Tifa and Aerith’s brownstone, and they climbed out of the vehicle, all in varying states of unease and exhaustion. As the cab pulled away, Zack and Aerith shared a lazy, tired kiss goodbye, while Tifa looked up at Cloud with uncertainty, one toe crossed behind the heel of the other.

“Um,” she whispered, and Cloud hated the way that he stood like a statue in front of her, unable to move, waiting. “I’ll text you later.”

He could only nod like a moron, watching her turn and walk with Aerith up the steps, her crescent moon and her underwear burning holes in his pocket.

* * *

Tifa didn’t text him later. 

The rest of that entire day and the next, Cloud checked his phone relentlessly, waiting for her to reach out, for her inevitable “Heya” and her little blue heart. But they didn’t come, and the more that the hours stretched away from New Year’s Eve and the bewildered intoxication of that night, the more that clarity seeped in and the more that their behavior and its implications came to light, the more Cloud began to panic, terrified that something had been irrevocably damaged and that he had no idea how to climb his way out of it.

It certainly didn’t help that that coming Monday, Tifa was scheduled to start her new job at Shinra Capitol. That thought plagued Cloud’s mind with a whole new set of anxieties that were only stacked on top of his distress over the messy state of his relationship with Tifa. For one, it meant that Tifa would no longer be working nights at Seventh Heaven, long hours of her days and evenings likely tied up with her new corporate responsibilities, chasing investors and managing stocks. 

Which meant no more taking the train home together, his favorite part of his day and the only thing that made going to his boring-ass job even remotely tolerable, him walking her from Seventh Heaven and to her brownstone, when they would chat quietly side by side and he would listen to her share her hopes and dreams, none of which involved Shinra fucking Capitol.

Yet most infuriating about all of it was the fact that she would be working for that asshole Rufus Fucking Shinra.

Cloud didn’t want to think about it, especially after what had happened between them on New Year’s Eve. It was too fucking depressing, being caught between the threads of their friendship that were slowly slipping away and the huge fucking question of what they actually meant to each other. That thought alone had the idea of a sleaze-bag like Rufus Shinra spending any time around her leaving him feeling hot and possessive and caged, as if she belonged to him but knowing full well that she didn’t.

And he didn’t know what the fuck to do about it, the hours ticking by and his phone still silent and everything in anxious, desperate stasis.

None of this was helped by the fact that he had slept terribly every single night since, tossing and turning and descending once again into war-torn nightmares whenever he finally did fall under.

It was Sunday evening on January 3rd when Cloud was laying back on his bed again, staring up at his ceiling, his television dully droning another show that he couldn’t pay any attention to. He had been lying there for hours, his phone on his chest, waiting for it to buzz and light up and greet him with a glowing blue heart.

Sundays had always been his day with Tifa, but they hadn’t spoken at all today. They still hadn’t spoken since they’d parted ways outside of her brownstone two days ago.

“Hey, Cloud,” there was a knock at the door, and Zack’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. He hadn’t spoken to his best friend much over the course of the last couple of days; both of them had taken longer than usual to climb their way out of their hangovers, and Cloud had kept himself confined to his room to brood over his own racing and miserable thoughts, not really in the mood to entertain any of Zack’s prodding. But at his tone, he sat up on his bed, rolling his shoulders and finally relenting.

The truth was, he needed someone to talk to, and Zack was the only person that he could trust.

Other than Tifa, but that was beside the fucking point.

“Yeah,” he called back, drawing his knees to his chest.

Zack opened the door, crossing into the room, his hair still looking as if he hadn’t run a comb through it in the last two days. He took a seat on the foot of Cloud’s bed, falling back with a loud sigh, crossing his arms behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Man… what a way to bring in the New Year, huh?”

Cloud only grunted, looking down at his hands, already knowing where this was headed.

“I think today is the first day my head isn’t actually still pounding,” Zack muttered, turning to glance at him. “I’ve been letting you off the hook, but I’ve finally got enough strength to deal with your nonsense.”

Cloud sighed, refusing to meet Zack’s stare. “What are you talking about, Zack?”

Zack huffed, rolling over to his side and leaning up on his elbow, looking at Cloud even more intently. “Oh, come on. You and Tifa. Don’t be ridiculous, Cloud. _Everyone_ could hear her that night.”

Cloud buried his face between his knees, shaking it vehemently in mortification.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

“Oh, I would be pretty proud of myself if I were you, honestly,” Zack continued with a laugh. “For what it’s worth, I think Jessie was so drunk that she forgot all about it, and Biggs would never say anything. Pretty sure Barret sleeps like the dead. Aerith sure hasn’t forgotten, though.”

_Great_ , Cloud thought miserably, wondering with dread if Tifa wasn’t also sitting on the end of a similar conversation across the street at the moment.

When he said nothing in response, Zack let the silence pass on for another beat before he sat up a little further and narrowed his eyes at Cloud.

“Listen, Cloud,” he began softly, “I’m sensing some issues here. Shouldn’t you do something?”

At that, Cloud finally picked his head up, his royal blue eyes connecting with Zack’s bright turquoise. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended. “I haven’t spoken to her since that morning.”

Zack only frowned, now sitting all the way back up again. “You’re kidding me, right?” His jaw was hanging open in complete incredulity. “You mean to tell me you’ve let two whole fucking days pass since that without having a conversation with her about it?”

Cloud was suddenly regretting letting Zack into his room.

“Alright, listen, I get it,” Zack went on. “You’re shitty at this kind of stuff. But come on, Cloud. Aren’t you going crazy?”

“She was supposed to text me,” he admitted lamely. “I’ve been waiting, but radio silence.”

Zack let out a sharp guffaw that had Cloud narrowing his eyes, wondering what the fuck could possibly be so amusing about this situation.

“You can’t be serious,” Zack bellowed, still laughing. “No girl wants to be the one to have to initiate a conversation after something like that, Cloud. Jesus, she probably thinks you’re rejecting her.”

As if this was somehow funny, Zack lifted his arm to his face and broke out into even brighter peals of laughter.

_Goddamnit._

“But she said..” Cloud realized he sounded like he was fourteen years old again when he spoke.

Zack held up his hand, trying desperately to stop his chortling. “I blame myself,” he finally choked out around a laugh, “I thought I had taught you better. But then, you’ve always been stubborn. Never did want to listen.”

“None of this is funny,” Cloud finally snapped.

Zack shook his head, scooting to the edge of the bed and pushing up to his feet with his hands on his knees. “You’re right. Listen… you need to fix this, and fast. Just talk to her,” he said this as if it were the most obvious, simplest thing in the world. “Tell her how you feel. And do it quickly… it may already be too late.”

He tipped his head at Cloud, shaking his head, laughing as he made his way out of his room, closing the door behind him and leaving Cloud sitting surrounded by silence, the walls suddenly feeling like they were caving in around him.

On his bedside table was Tifa’s crescent moon earring, right next to his alarm clock, and inside its drawer were her lacy black panties.

He glanced down at his phone, still blank, no incoming calls or texts over the course of the last few days.

_Fuck fuck fuckity fuck_.

* * *

“Name, please?”

“Tifa Lockhart.”

The woman at the receptionist’s desk offered Tifa a tight-lipped smile, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a lanyard with a plastic badge attached to it.

“I’ll phone Elena right away. This is your temporary badge,” the receptionist leaned over her desk, handing it to her. “You can have a seat right on those chairs. And welcome to Shinra Capitol.”

Tifa accepted the badge, nodding slowly before slipping it over her head and turning away, finding the row of plush, white leather chairs and sinking into one of them.

Tifa pulled on the hem of her skirt, brushing off the collar of her blazer as she looked around, her coat looped around her arm. She was in the main lobby of the first floor of Shinra Capitol’s flagship building on West Street in Lower Manhattan, a seventy story, glass and steel encased building that housed all of the firm’s primary operations. The structure was lined with almost nothing but windows, letting the pale January sunlight filter in with blinding bursts.

Tifa’s nerves were on a dangerous knife’s edge as she sat and waited, clutching the leather briefcase her father had gifted her for Christmas at her side. It was her first day at Shinra Capitol, her first time inside of this massive, pearlescent building that her father had worked in for years and where some of the world’s most lucrative investments and financial dealings were conducted. She felt vividly out of place, watching as Shinra employees, all dressed in stiff dark business suits, briefcases at their sides and lanyards around their necks, passed through security and traversed the lobby, making their way to the elevators at the farthest end of the space.

She felt her knee begin to sway, a tell-tale sign that her anxiety was spiking and that her blood was flooding with cortisol. The holidays had passed far too quickly, a complete blur that left her feeling as if she had been spun into some sort of a whirlwind. Tifa realized that she had been relying on them too heavily as the interlude before her new reality, and now that the New Year had set in, there was no avoiding the fact that she was stuck suddenly in a hell that was completely not of her own design.

Her feelings were a scattering of puzzle pieces that had no reasonable solution in sight. It had only been a few days ago that she’d finally had the difficult conversation with Barret, letting him know that she was going to have quit bartending at Seventh Heaven in the evenings and that she’d likely have to scale back her volunteer work with AVALANCHE. He had been furious, especially since she had given him such short notice, but he had also been deeply concerned by the turn of events.

“This don’t sound like you at all, Tifa,” he’d grumbled, whipping his sunglasses off to place them on the bar’s countertop, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Tifa had instantly been disarmed by the inviting warmth in his gentle, hazel-brown eyes. “Working on Wall Street? I thought you hated your daddy’s business.”

Tifa could only sigh in response, knowing when she entered the conversation that Barret would be able to read her with transparency like perhaps no other. It had been one of the reasons she had put off having the conversation with him for so long in the first place.

As soon as the New Year arrived, her father began to cling and hover in an uncharacteristic way that quickly had Tifa feeling as if she might be suffocating. He was calling her daily, inquiring about her preparations ahead of her first day at work, asking her if she needed anything, offering her tidbits of advice that he’d somehow deemed useful. For years, Tifa had learned to live with weeks stretching between them where they didn’t talk outside of much more than a swift, occasional text message. A hopeful part of her was spurred and brightened by his sudden attention, eager and willing for his praise and his affection. But a darker, far more cynical part of her reigned supreme, utterly despising him for his blatant inauthenticity. 

Then, there was the matter of Cloud. As much as Tifa was distressed and anxious about her new job and her father and the complete disruption in her life and her routine, nothing plagued her more than her relationship with Cloud. She thought about him day and night, his presence wrapped like sticky taffy through the ridges of her brain and around the ventricles of her heart. The space between her thighs still burned with the sensation of his mouth against her skin, the feeling of his lips pressed across her most sensitive, intimate parts while his blue eyes glowed up at her dangerously beneath the cover of darkness. No matter how wasted she had been that night, she could not shake the imprint that his tongue against her flesh had left, the way he had burned her alive, his hands splayed across her thighs as he held her open, removing all of her control and completely unraveling her, thread by delicate thread.

Every time she thought about it, she felt her blood pressure spike, felt herself grow warm and wet again between her knees. She almost would give up a limb to share that feeling with him again.

But their intimacy had thrown a brick wall between their relationship, horribly timed with the advent of her new job at Shinra and so many other life changes that were shuffling in with the new year. In the days that followed, they hadn’t spoken until very late the night before, when Cloud had finally sent her a text message, an exchange that Tifa had read and reread over probably a thousand times by now.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hey._

**_Tifa:_ ** _Heya_

**_Cloud:_ ** _You okay?_

**_Cloud:_ ** _You start your new job tomorrow, right?_

**_Tifa:_ ** _Yeah. I’m ok. Just a little nervous_

**_Cloud:_ ** _You’ll do great._

**_Tifa:_ ** _Thanks_

Brief, to the point, and completely glossing over the fact that only two nights prior, they’d had their mouths all over each other’s genitals.

Tifa didn’t know how to continue the discussion after that, nor did she have the slightest clue how to initiate a conversation that she knew they badly needed to have. She didn’t have the courage or the words for what she was feeling, and even if she did, she was clumsily unable to assemble them into anything coherent. She wished that Cloud would just ask her out, solidifying what had happened between them into something concrete and real.

But Tifa knew that things were far more complicated than that. She knew that Cloud was distant and troubled and not completely invested in this life in New York City, knew that she wanted to avoid the knotty intricacies and distractions of a relationship, knew that they both treasured their decades-long friendship above all.

She had been staring down at her last text messages with Cloud when a pair of patent leather, block-heeled pumps stopped in front of her, and Tifa sat back, adjusting her skirt-suit as she looked up.

“Ms. Lockhart?”

She was facing an attractive young woman, not much older than herself, whose blonde hair was styled in a flawless bob, her brown eyes wide and oval-shaped, her skin pale and smooth as if she lived in mud baths.

“Yes,” Tifa replied, rising to her feet and offering her hand.

“Nice to meet you!” The woman accepted her hand, shaking it vigorously, and Tifa realized that she was far more chipper than she had been expecting. “My name is Elena. I’m a junior financial analyst in the Vice President’s office. VP Rufus asked me to get you settled in this morning and introduce you to the rest of the team.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tifa replied, swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat. Although her nerves were still utterly on fire, Elena’s warm and bubbly nature was somewhat infectious and left her feeling a little bit at ease.

She followed Elena through the building and to the elevators, listening as the woman talked incessantly the entire time, explaining first a drab bit of history about the building itself, before expanding into her own career and background with the company. Tifa learned that Elena had an older sister who worked in the President’s office, but had since transferred to another firm. Elena was a junior analyst who had only been with the company for about ten months.

Rufus’ office was on the sixty-ninth floor, and when they arrived, Tifa immediately noticed the marked differences compared to the ground level and some of the other levels that she’d spotted during their ascent. This floor was carpeted completely in vermillion, again encased by a seemingly endless cascade of shimmering floor-to-ceiling windows that invited so much sunlight into the halls that Tifa had to squint as they looped around towering, graphite columns. The lighting was dim, eerily shadowed by the undertones of luminescent violet skylights.

“You have your own office, of course, right next to the Vice President,” Elena was saying, “But before we go there, I’ll take you to our main conference room, which Rufus calls our _war room_. The rest of the crew is there, and it’s where we do most of our work and strategize as a team.”

Tifa could only nod in silence, feeling uncertainty blend with the tension that pulled at her nerves, and she straightened her spine as they approached the conference room, summoning every last ounce of will and strength that she possessed. 

Elena shouldered the door open, and Tifa followed her inside, her heels immediately sinking into the even plusher slate-gray carpeting that lined this room. It was a vast, long conference room, a large, polished wooden table taking up most of its space, a sparkling view of the New York City skyline greeting them from beyond the windows.

Rufus was nowhere in sight, but there were three other individuals seated at the table, Tseng one of them. He sat at the center of the conference table, his hair an impeccable waterfall of ink across his shoulders, his left hand scribbling something carefully into the margins of a report. As they entered, he looked up, letting his eyes descend on her, narrowing slightly as they focused.

A few chairs down from him was a man with a messy shock of bright red hair, wearing the most disheveled suit that Tifa had seen in all of Lower Manhattan, let alone inside of this pristine building. Not only that, but he had his feet kicked up on the table, an unopened laptop and an assortment of untouched folders sprawled in front of him.

And two seats down from him, bald-headed and bronze-skinned, was her ex-boyfriend, Rude.

Tifa had dated Rude just a little over a year ago, after meeting him at Master Zangan’s dojo, initiating a fling that had only lasted a couple of months, commencing with a brief physical attraction that never materialized into anything more significant than that. The most they had shared were a few makeout sessions that were very uninspiring, and they had both ended the affair amicably. Tifa knew that at the time, Rude worked in finance, but he had never revealed that he worked for her father’s company, and at that moment, she realized how superficial and shallow their fleeting courtship had really been.

“Guys, this is Tifa Lockhart,” Elena announced brightly, waving a hand in the air. 

“Goddamn,” the redhead whispered, and Tifa narrowed her eyes, glancing at him sharply.

“She’s Rufus’ new financial strategist and performance coach,” Elena explained.

“I’d like to let her coach my performance, alright,” the redhead commented as if she were not standing right there.

“Hello, Tifa,” Rude greeted with a nod of his head, and Tifa realized that he was not experiencing the same surprise that she was, obviously expecting her arrival.

“Wait, you know this chick?” the redhead kicked his feet off of the table, finally sitting up straight. “Oh man, how’s Rufus gonna like having your sloppy seconds?”

Tifa was about to launch herself across the table and grab him by the throat, but mercifully, Tseng was at his feet.

“That’s enough, Reno,” he warned in a severe tone, pulling on his tie. He gestured to a chair across from where he sat. “Have a seat, Ms. Lockhart. The Vice President will join us shortly.”

Reno shut up at last, but Tifa did not miss the haranguing grin that was plastered across his face, his aquamarine eyes following her as she pulled back a chair to sit. At his side, Rude shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a distasteful frown pulling at his lips.

“Don’t mind him,” Elena murmured as she slid into a seat beside her. “He’s utterly filthy.”

Reno only laughed at that, but Tifa decided that she was going to have to learn to ignore him if she was going to survive this experience. Pushing the hot waves of anger down for the sake of her and her father’s reputations, she carefully dropped her work bag onto the table and folded her hands in her lap.

Tseng was staring at her again, his eyes piercing beads of onyx that seemed to be holding something almost like contempt in their depths. Otherwise, his face was an unreadable mask, one of the most faultless poker-faces Tifa had ever seen.

“We are reviewing last quarter’s financial reports,” Tseng informed her, his voice smooth and steady, a tuft of silk blowing beneath a breeze. “The Vice President is interested in adjusting our investment strategy for the remainder of this fiscal year, with the aim of doubling our profits.”

Tifa nodded, sitting up a little straighter. As much as she hated everything about this, and as much she didn’t want to be here, she couldn’t resist the impulse to do her absolute best, to overachieve, even at things she did not care for.

She nodded at the spreadsheet in front of him. “Can I take a look?” she asked.

Tseng’s eyebrow crested slightly, the first time his face had broken its shield at all. Wordlessly, he slid the papers across the desk to her.

Tifa turned them to her, studying the account names and the sales figures and dates that ran across the pages. She felt her heart rate rise a little, recognizing the names of several of the most prominent multinational corporations in the world, spotting the names of celebrities and wealthy international businesspeople and even a few senators and the Vice President of the United States.

“Shinra is one of the most sought after investment firms in the entire world, Ms. Lockhart,” Tseng stated, as if he had been reading her mind. “I’m sure your father has shared that, no?”

Tifa sat back, tearing her eyes from the spreadsheet. “Of course.”

Tseng looked away from her, instead turning to the other analysts in the room. “Be prepared to share your recommendations with the Vice President upon his arrival,” he warned them.

As if on cue, the door opened, and Rufus Shinra entered with a long stride. This morning, he was dressed in an impeccable sky-gray, three piece suit, finished with a contrasting lead-colored vest and necktie. He was holding a leather portfolio in hand, and he dropped it to the table as he came to a stop at the head of it.

“Good morning,” he greeted the group, flipping his sandy hair out of his eyes, which seemed brighter and bluer than Tifa remembered them, especially as they swept the room and landed ultimately on her. His lips spread into his characteristically wicked smirk.

“Ah, greetings, Tifa,” he said, and Tifa felt a shudder pass through her at the way he carelessly tossed her first name from his lips. “I am so glad that you are finally here. I have been waiting quite impatiently for you to join our team.”

“Tell me about it,” Reno quipped, earning a harsh glare from Tseng.

Tifa said nothing, only nodding her head in response to Rufus, who chuckled darkly at Reno’s remark. He let his frosty blue stare linger on her for a moment, sending knives sliding up her skin before he finally turned away, pulling out his chair and falling into his seat, resting his chin casually on his fist.

“Tseng, bring up last quarter’s earnings.”

Tifa watched as Tseng booted his laptop, projecting it onto the large screen that was hung on the opposite wall across the room. Instantly, a digital version of the spreadsheet she had just analyzed appeared. The room fell silent as Rufus stared up at the screen, a bored expression on his face.

Long moments of silence passed before he sat up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing. The smug, jocular simper that Tifa was so accustomed to him wearing was now gone, replaced instead by an imperceptible veil of seriousness.

“CorelCorp is expected to fold within days,” he divulged carefully. “We’ll need to move quickly on those assets.”

“How do you know that?” Tseng asked calmly, and even Reno’s interest had been piqued.

Tifa watched Rufus carefully, almost seeing the wheels turn and grind inside of his head. Now confronted with the realities of this financial world, he seemed to have become a completely different person; even his interest in her had waned.

“I’ve been provided with certain information,” he responded simply. “In addition, Rocket Industries is in negotiations with Icicle Energy for a massive acquisition. I expect all of those shares dumped by noon tomorrow.”

Tseng narrowed his eyes, picking up his pen and clicking it several times before scribbling into the margins of his papers again.

“Any suggestions on how to handle CorelCorp?” Rufus asked, leaning back in his chair, once again appearing utterly bored.

The group was quiet, thinking. At Tifa’s side, Elena opened the folder in front of her, nervously shifting through its papers. Tseng and Rude seemed to be making an honest effort to study the papers in front of them, searching for a solution. Reno was picking under his fingernails, completely disinterested.

Tifa turned back to the spreadsheet projected on the screen, surveying the figures and accounts that filled the columns and rows. After long moments of silence passed, she turned to Rufus.

“CorelCorp is owned by Warren Holzoff,” she began quietly, her voice quivering in the back of her throat. “He also owns more than twenty percent stake of Icicle Energy. Did you see the block trade last Thursday that came out of Icicle?”

“Yes,” Rufus responded, suddenly intrigued, leaning forward over the table, his pale, sky blue eyes connecting with hers. “That was Rocket cashing out their shorts before the merger.”

“Not exactly,” Tifa continued, straightening her spine a little. “The trade happened at noon, when everyone was at lunch, which tells me that they wanted it to be missed. Rocket Industries’ offer was just a ploy to temporarily prop up Icicle Energy. The block trade was Holzoff getting out of Icicle, thus getting out of CorelCorp, which means _we_ need to be out of CorelCorp before the word gets out, because the shares are going to plummet before the workday is over.”

Rufus just stared at her, long moments of steely intensity that nailed her into her chair. But after a moment passed, he began to smile, a broader expression than his usual smirks.

“Well,” he finally breathed. “That is brilliant. You are going to do very well here, Tifa.”

Tifa managed to get through the rest of that first work day without further incident. After Rufus had delegated several tasks to the group concerning CorelCorp and other accounts, he departed, and Tifa mercifully did not see him for the remainder of the day. Instead, she spent the rest of her time working with Rufus’ small personal group of analysts and strategists, miffed by Tseng’s coldness toward her, annoyed by Reno’s lacksidasical nature, and anxious by the awkwardness between her and Rude. Only her interactions with Elena seemed to have any normalcy and authenticity, and she was grateful when she was given the opportunity to shadow her for the remainder of the afternoon, the blond offering her a tour of the building and showing Tifa her new office and walking her through use of the firm’s financial software database.

Still, she was drained when she caught the train back to Brooklyn at five-thirty that evening, her feet pinched with pain from wearing heels all day, the cold January air biting her cheeks. She was unaccustomed to riding the subways during rush hour, and couldn’t shake her irritation at the fact that there was standing-room only on her ride home, or at the fact that other passengers seemed blissfully unaware of her presence and held no qualms about bumping into her ruthlessly.

When she arrived home that evening, she found Aerith sitting in the living room, surrounded by papers that were covered in bright pink ink.

Kicking out of her shoes, Tifa dropped her briefcase by the door and sank into the armchair across from where Aerith was seated on the couch.

“Tifa,” her best friend stretched her arms over her head, dropping her pen and leaning back against the couch. “I thought about you all day! How was your first day?”

Tifa sighed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t terrible,” she admitted. “I mean, the work is doable. Rufus didn’t bother me too much today.”

Aerith hummed, nodding her head. “He is very handsome, but he certainly doesn’t seem like your type. Is he, Tifa?”

“Absolutely not,” Tifa rebuffed immediately.

Aerith laughed, tossing her head so that her wavy brown hair tumbled across her shoulders. “I didn’t think so. But that reminds me, Tifa. Have you talked to Cloud, yet?”

_Here we go_ , Tifa thought, rolling her eyes.

“I mean,” Aerith was leaning forward, clasping her hands in front of her. “I know the last couple of days have been kinda crazy, and we haven’t had a chance to talk. But I know what happened on New Year’s Eve, Tifa. I think everyone who was in a five block radius does.”

Tifa shook her head, covering her face with one hand as she felt it brighten with red, mortified heat.

“Oh, don’t be so embarrassed, Tifa!” Aerith chided. “Though, I didn’t expect Cloud to be such a generous lover. It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Aerith!”

“Okay, Tifa. I’m just concerned about you, that’s all. You haven’t said anything about it to me since it happened, and you know we talk about everything.” She tipped her head at her, raising a scolding finger in the air. “I know you like to lock away your feelings, but it’s not healthy, especially not in a situation like this. So at least tell me what is going on.”

Tifa continued to shake her head, disbelieving at the way that Aerith was able to so seamlessly read her like an open book. She knew, like always, that there was no getting out of this conversation. 

“We haven’t really talked about it,” Tifa sighed, realizing how pathetic it sounded once the words were spoken out loud. “We’ve texted a few times, but… nothing about what we did, or… what it means.”

Unsurprisingly, Aerith chuckled. “Of course you didn’t,” she marveled with a toss of her head. “Tifa, I know that Cloud is shy, that you both are, really. But eventually, one of you is going to have to break the ice and _talk_ about it. You cannot expect to go on pretending like it never happened.”

Tifa pinched her forehead, shaking her head again.

“It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you both clearly care about each other,” Aerith went on relentlessly. “I mean, Tifa, have you seen the way that he looks at you? Like he would jump in front of a train for you, like you’re the most magnificent creature he’s ever laid eyes on.”

“Zack looks at you the same way,” Tifa argued.

“Ha,” Aerith cackled, “Tifa, I love Zack, I truly do. But I am convinced that Cloud is already _in love_ with you.”

Tifa covered her face again, shaking her head in despair, unable to handle any of this.

“I really don’t think a relationship is a good idea right now, Aerith,” she complained, feeling her heart tear. 

“All I’m saying, Tifa, “ Aerith skipped past her last comment, “Is what I’ve always said - just follow your heart.”

Tifa sighed, pushing up to her feet, knowing that Aerith was right and absolutely despising her for it.

“I’m gonna shower,” she said finally. “Have fun grading your papers.”

Aerith smiled, lifting up one of the pages that was slashed with pink ink. “Third grade book reports,” she laughed. “No better way to spend a Monday night.”

Tifa emitted a tired chuckle before she drifted into her bedroom to disrobe and then shower, pulling on her pajamas for the night. Not having much of an appetite, she noshed on a few fruits and toast in the kitchen before climbing into bed for the night by the ripe hour of nine o’clock.

She was flipping through a few channels, looking for something to watch that would ultimately lull her to sleep, when her phone buzzed and lit up on her bedside table. Yawning, Tifa reached for it and held it over her face.

**_Cloud:_ ** _Hey._

She blinked, staring at his message, her heart beginning to tremble in her chest, the heat returning to bloom over her body the way that it always did whenever she thought about him.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Heya_

**_Cloud:_ ** _How was your day?_

Tifa felt herself blushing, enamored by his simple, thoughtful question. She rolled over to her side, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.

**_Tifa:_ ** _It was okay. Could have been worse_

**_Cloud:_ ** _That’s good._

She stared at the display, listening to the thrum of her heart drown out the soft sounds emitting from the television across the room. Biting her bottom lip, she began to type, staring at the words before she hit send.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Can we talk about the other night?_

Shaking her head wildly, Tifa slammed the backspace on her screen, wiping the words instantly away. Nope. She couldn’t do this. Especially not over text messages.

**_Tifa:_ ** _How was yours?_

**_Cloud:_ ** _I’m still at work. It’s boring._

**_Cloud:_ ** _I wish I could walk you home._

Tifa almost gasped out loud, instantly feeling a tingle between her thighs. She buried her face into her pillow, dropping a tiny scream into its fabric.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Me too_

He didn’t respond after that, and Tifa couldn’t figure out a way to prolong the conversation. Instead, she dropped the phone somewhere in the sheets, burrowing under the covers, her entire body electrified from their brief exchange.

She couldn’t stop the way that her hand slipped beyond the band of her yoga pants, her fingers sliding through her damp heat and finding her clit, gently rubbing its sides as she breathed his name into her pillows.

* * *

Two weeks quickly passed, and Tifa gradually learned the ropes of Shinra Capitol, becoming acquainted with its employees and its systems. She learned that Shinra’s scope in the financial world was far deeper and broader than she originally had imagined, the company owning stakes that extended far beyond the country’s domestic shores and held investments that waded into staggering billions. The amount of money that this firm sat on top of was truly breathtaking.

Tifa was soon given her own set of accounts to manage, somewhat surprised when Rufus handed her his most prioritized clients, ones that Tseng had previously supervised. She realized quickly that this did not improve Tseng’s attitude toward her, and he had taken to practically throwing daggers at her with his dark brown eyes whenever they happened to be in the same room.

Tifa was completely in the dark and unsure about what his problem with her was. Her interactions with him had been limited, and she could think of no reason that she could have given him to be so distrustful and disapproving of her. It was so bizarre that she ended up simply accepting it, trying not to think too hard about it, even though his glares seemed to flay the flesh right off of her face every time he turned to look at her.

Tifa managed to work past her initial awkward embarrassment of her past relationship with Rude to work with him, finding him to be competent and a rather useful resource. He wasn’t very talkative, as Tifa was already quite aware, but he seemed to know everyone in the office and had a robust network of external contacts in the trading arena that he was happy to share with her, connections that made a lot of her work much easier and far more effective.

Reno was easily the laziest person on the team, yet somehow always managing to close out an account or move on a particular trade or pull in a prized investor with last-minute efficiency that earned him high praises, despite that fact that it was common knowledge that he spent most of his time doing absolutely nothing besides driving everyone in the office completely crazy. Tifa could honestly say she was a little awe-inspired by his abilities, regardless that she absolutely could not stand him and thought he was complete trash.

Elena was a small blessing in the office. Like Rude, she was helpful and offered Tifa all sorts of advice and insider knowledge on various supports both inside of Shinra as well as within New York’s broader financial world. She had taken to having lunch with Tifa on most days and always greeted her first thing in the morning with a bright smile.

And she was also a gossip, Tifa quickly discovered. By the end of her first week, Tifa had learned that Rufus’ father had already cycled through four wives, that Scarlet had slept with half of the executives and board members in the company, and that there were lots and lots of rumors circulating around Rufus Shinra’s sexuality.

Tifa couldn’t even entertain that last one, especially with the way that Rufus was coming on to her, stronger and stronger as the days went on, asking her to lunch occasionally and soon, sending single white roses to her office, where they had begun to accumulate into a threatening pile on her desk.

“Don’t turn down his flowers,” Elena had warned. “You may not have seen it yet, but Rufus has a nasty temper.”

After her first couple of days with the company, he began to take seriously the performance coach aspect of her role, frequently calling her to his office in the mid-afternoons to share his ideas with her and pepper her with questions about his strategies. Every time she padded down the hall to his office, she felt the anxiety rise again and course through her blood, sending her heart to its new favorite location in the center of her throat.

This particular mid-morning, though, Rufus had asked her to his office so that he could insist she finally take lunch with him.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Tifa,” Rufus warned her as soon she opened her mouth to protest. Already, he was pulling on his wool coat, rolling his shoulders as he buttoned it, the sunlight shining crystalline waves into his flaxen hair through the wall of windows behind his desk. “I’d like to take you to Manhatta. It’s a wonderful French place on the sixtieth floor of a building in the Financial District, with stunning views of the city. We can take my helicopter there.”

Tifa just stared at him.

He hadn’t been joking, though. After retrieving her coat and her purse, Tifa was escorted to the helipad on the roof of Shinra Capitol’s tower, just outside of President Shinra’s office on the seventieth floor. Speechless, Tifa followed Rufus into its cabin, her hair billowing in the wind that was kicked up by the chopper’s rotors. 

The ride in the helicopter was less than ten minutes, and Tifa stared out of the window the entire time, awestruck by the view of New York City’s endless sea of tall buildings, a curious blend of sleek, modern skyscrapers and nineteenth-century architecture. From this vantage point, above the smog and pollution below, the sky was a bright, crisp, deep blue, pretty wisps of cirrus and stratus floating in its ether.

And for some reason, just the thought of the color blue had her thinking suddenly about Cloud.

The chopper arrived at the building that housed Manhatta, and Rufus descended first, offering Tifa his arm as she carefully climbed out of the helicopter and on to the tarp. She wondered exactly how much hair gel was holding down Rufus’ locks that only the golden wisps that fell across his forehead were wind-whipped by the chopper’s blades.

Rufus had a sure grip on her arm as they entered the restaurant, and Tifa was once again enveloped by the overpowering fragrance of his cologne, hating it. It was too strong, and she wondered why he used so much of it. She much preferred the way that Cloud smelled, clean and masculine with just a hint of spice.

Thinking about Cloud, with Rufus’ arm laced through hers and his body too unnervingly close to her own, Tifa couldn’t stop herself from blushing and feeling the familiar warmth bubble in her core.

Rufus finally separated from her when they were shown a table, a window seat that offered a spectacular view of New York and the world below. Rufus ordered them a bottle of white wine, while Tifa let her eyes drift out of the window, admiring the skyline and desperately avoiding looking back at Rufus and his icy blue stare.

“So, Tifa,” he began, pulling her attention back to him, causing the nervous energy to burst back up in the center of her gut again. “I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Tifa stared at him, her fingers rolling over each other under the table.

“How are you enjoying your new role with the company?”

Tifa shrugged, trying to push away the thick formation that was in the center of her throat so that she could speak properly. “The team has been helpful in getting me acclimated,” she admitted, that part true. “I would say I am enjoying it just fine.”

Rufus sat back in his chair, that gratuitous smirk stretching his lips again. There was almost something teasing in the way that he was regarding her.

“Hm,” he acknowledged as a waiter came around and poured wine into each of their chalices before departing. “I wanted you to be honest, Ms. Lockhart.”

With the way that he was staring at her and the playful undertones laced in his voice, Tifa had to admit that he was _really_ getting under her skin. At that moment, she was not sure if she would survive working for him for another hour, certainly not for years.

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully.

Rufus picked up his glass, sipping with a daintiness that was almost feminine. “I’ve done some digging on you, Tifa,” he informed her. “I know that you spent most of the last several years working for that nonprofit - AVALANCHE, is it? Even heard some rumors that your name was being tossed around for Borough President in Brooklyn.”

“Nonsense,” Tifa rejoined, hating the way her voice trembled as she spoke.

Rufus regarded her with a shrug. “Rumors are rumors, I suppose,” he recognized. “But you did work for AVALANCHE, did you not?”

“I did,” Tifa conceded, wondering how much digging Rufus had actually done into her life, and wondering if her father had contributed anything at all to it.

His eyebrows jumped slightly before he nodded and sipped his drink again. “And whatever possessed you to take on such charity work?” he asked.

The condescension underpinning his tone grated against her nerves, and Tifa found her hands clenching into fists under the table, her fingernails digging divots into her palms. It took everything in her power to remain calm as she stared back at him, unwilling to fall into the trap of his patronage.

“It isn’t charity work,” she informed him calmly.

“Oh?” he leaned back with a laugh. “What is it, then?”

“We do a lot of work in the community,” Tifa explained. “We connect families to resources and supports, register voters, advocate for the disenfranchised.” The longer she spoke, the more the heat inside of her rose, and the more that she hated that she was sitting inside of this outrageously expensive restaurant, having lunch with the most arrogant bastard she had ever met in her life and working for a corporation whose life-sucking, leeching financial behavior indirectly contributed to so many of the inequities she had spent the last five years of her life fighting against. “A lot of people in this city lack access to things that you and I take advantage of.”

Rufus’ smirk had widened, and Tifa wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and wipe it off of his face with her fist.

“Seems hopelessly idealistic, don’t you think?” he asked, his voice still propped up by that taunting tone that was making her want to stomp her feet and scream with frustration.

“I don’t think so,” she muttered instead.

“Ah, “ Rufus sighed, lifting his menu with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I appreciate the sentiment, Tifa, and I do find it rather charming. But I’ve come to realize that the world works a certain way for a reason, and there is very little success in trying to disrupt what is meant to be.”

Tifa was jolted by the dark cynicism in that, but she did not respond, instead picking up the menu to peruse it, letting the conversation drop.

Mercifully, after they’d placed their orders, Rufus fell into his habit of doing what he did best - talking at length about himself. It gave Tifa a blissful reprieve from engaging in uncomfortable conversation with him, and she was more than content to let him prattle on if it meant she could sit silently and let his words float over her head.

During the course of their meal, Tifa discovered far more about Rufus Shinra than she had ever set out to unearth. She learned that Rufus’ mother had passed away from cancer when he was in grade school, and it dug into the center of her spine that they shared something so tragic in common. She also learned that his father had married three times since, a fact that she already knew from Elena, and that Rufus did not have a stable relationship with any of those women, in fact, he admitted quite plainly, that he was content to ignore them as if they simply did not exist.

He also shared that he had been on the rowing team at the University of Pennsylvania, that he found finance uninspiring and boring if not lucrative, and that he owned his own mansion in the Hamptons, and he would absolutely love to show it to her when the weather grew warm again.

Tifa said nothing in response to that, only staring down into her glass.

When their plates had been cleared away, Rufus leaned over the table, his eyes suddenly alight with a dance, his lips twisted into the most wicked version of his smirk she’d seen yet, and instantly she felt the anxiety spike and the lump reform in her chest.

“So, Tifa,” he began, resting his wrist beneath his chin. “I’m glad you took lunch with me today. It’s always so lovely to spend time with you.”

Once again, Tifa remained silent, her heartbeat the only sound emitting from her vicinity.

“We should make this a routine, don’t you think?”

“Seems like it would get expensive pretty quickly,” she jeered, causing Rufus to toss his head back with a laugh, his yellow hair tumbling across his forehead.

“I love a woman with a sense of humor,” he asserted, leaning forward again, his voice taking on a low, dark edge, and Tifa found herself physically backing up in her chair. “As nice as this has been though, it pales in comparison to what I would like to do for you. Let me take you out this weekend, Tifa. For dinner, and maybe a show, or anything you like.”

Tifa felt all of the air rush out of her lungs, leaving them to collapse in the center of her chest as if she had just been slammed in the sternum. She swallowed carefully, trying to still her hands where they trembled in her lap, cautiously leveling her gaze with Rufus’.

“I’m not interested,” she told him, her voice low but even.

Rufus sat back, his smirk deepening as if he had expected this reaction. He cocked his head to one side, regarding her in a way that made her skin crawl.

“This have anything to do with that boy you were with in Rockefeller Center?”

At the word _boy_ , Tifa felt a sudden flare of angry heat wash over her, causing her to sit up straighter in her chair and set her wine glass down a little too forcefully.

“No, I -“

“I did some digging into him, too,” Rufus interrupted. “Cloud Strife. A security guard for a public utility company downtown that Shinra Capitol owns ninety percent of its shares. Which means, technically, that I own him.” Rufus began to laugh in a bright way that had Tifa feeling like she was being pulled under its currents and drowning. “Really, Tifa, you can do much better than that.”

Tifa stared at him, her mouth open and quivering as she tried to formulate a response, but her brain was submerged in a silent fury that burned out all of her executive functioning. She watched him continue to laugh, now shaking his head, and she briefly entertained the idea of sloshing the rest of her wine right into his face.

“I do love a challenge, though,” Rufus avowed, his pale blue eyes blazing at her. “I don’t mind you making me work for it, Lockhart.”

Tifa couldn’t speak for the remainder of their lunch or the ride in the helicopter back to headquarters, and Rufus seemed fully aware of it, pleased with himself for disarming her so completely. Her mind was torn with competing torrents of rage and humiliation, and when he finally deposited her outside of her office, departing her presence with a wink and a tilt of his head, Tifa leaned against the wall and felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in hours.

Still, she was too distracted by the turn of events and felt suffocated by her office and the entire building, unable to do any work, deciding at once that she needed to get some air before Elena showed up and chatted incessantly into her ear. Grabbing her coat, Tifa rode the elevator downstairs and left the Shinra Building, letting her stilettos carry her away into the Financial District.

Finding a small fountain a block away that was surrounded by benches and small gardens, Tifa finally stopped, finding a seat, dropping her hands to either side of her hips on the bench. She inhaled deeply, feeling the first waves of a panic attack building inside of her and desperately willing them away.

Tifa hated Rufus Shinra, hated him more than anyone or anything she could even conjure into her imagination. She hated the condescension that was threaded through every word and thought he expressed, despised the way that he talked down her interests and passions. She was disgusted by his view of the world and detested the manner in which he treated everyone as if they were somehow at his whim. And she abhorred the way that he behaved with impunity as if his actions had no consequences or baring on the world around him. She was shaken by his audacity to look into her life, to look into _Cloud’s_ life, and then to throw all of it into her face with no regard for her feelings, only to turn around in the same breath and shamelessly pursue her romantically.

She hated him.

“Ms. Lockhart?”

Tifa was pulled from the dearth of despairing thoughts that collided through her mind by a gentle, deep voice, looking up to find a handsome man who appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties staring down at her. He was smartly dressed in a crisp dark suit and black wool coat, his hair combed back against his head, dark and matching his goatee.

“Yes?”

“My name is Reeve Tuesti, U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York,” He explained, extending a hand. “Mind if I join you?”

Tifa blinked, staring at his hand in silence for long stretches of moments, completely dumbfounded. What on earth would a U.S. Attorney want with her?

Could this day get any more ridiculous?

“S-sure,” she finally stuttered in response, accepting his hand and then pulling away, scooting over to make room for him. Reeve nodded at her before sitting down beside her.

“Thank you. I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

Tifa just nodded, unable to speak, a thousand questions burning the front of her brain.

“You are the daughter of Brian Lockhart, Chief Financial Officer at Shinra Capitol?” he asked, tipping his head at the massive Shinra building that loomed overhead in the distance.

“Yes, that is correct,” Tifa answered carefully.

“And you’ve recently begun working for the firm as well, is that right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Hm,” Reeve rubbed his hands together against the cold. “I imagine you’ve only just begun to become acquainted with some of the investments that Shinra is involved in, no?”

“You could say that,” Tifa agreed.

“Would you happen to know anything about recent mergers and trades involving CorelCorp and Icicle Energy? Or perhaps Rocket Industries?”

Tifa just stared at him, feeling her heartbeat begin to rise.

“Has your father mentioned anything?” Reeve went on. “My office has a great deal of interest in his involvement with these accounts. I was hoping perhaps, that you might be able to shed some insight.”

Tifa swallowed, tasting iron, and she realized she had been biting down on her tongue until it bled. “No, I don’t know much about it. Is there some trouble?”

Reeve offered her a warm, placating smile, but there was something about it that disturbed her. He studied her face for a long moment, his brown eyes soft and caring before he shook his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he finally said. “There is just some activity we are monitoring on the markets, that’s all. Sometimes it is helpful to get an inside perspective.”

Tifa didn’t believe that for a second.

Reeve was reaching into the breast pocket of his coat, pulling out a business card and offering it to her.

“If you see anything suspicious, or come across any information that you think might be helpful, please do not hesitate to give me a call, Ms. Lockhart,” he told her. “I just want to ensure that your father and his associates are protected.”

Tifa accepted the card from him, staring down at the gold-emblazoned letters that were stamped into the cardstock.

**_U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York._ **

“Um, okay,” was all she could manage.

Reeve nodded, smiling at her again as he rose to his feet.

“Thank you. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. I hope to hear from you soon, Ms. Lockhart.”

He dropped his hands into his pockets, and Tifa watched as he walked off, blending into the midday work crowds that flooded the streets of the Financial District.

Blunted now by anxiety that seemed to live permanently inside of her, Tifa stared down at the card, feeling a debilitating tightness expand in her chest as she thought back to Rufus’ conversation about CorelCorp on her very first day of work.

_What is happening?_

* * *

“So, I guess you’re just not going to do anything about it, huh?”

Cloud was sitting on the couch in their apartment’s living room, a rare occasion where he wasn’t holed up in his bedroom, brooding over his laptop or fighting the repressive thoughts that invaded his mind and soured his mood. Of course, he had only come out here because Zack had been at work, but now Zack was home, and it was time to retreat.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Zack stopped him as he moved to get up. “You aren’t going anywhere. We are handling this right now, _tonight_ , because goddamnit, it’s all Aerith talks about anymore and I’m tired of your relationship issues seeping into mine.”

Cloud sighed, flopping back against the couch, defeated. Zack was such a pain in the ass, but there was no escaping this time, and deep inside, Cloud knew that his friend was probably right.

Weeks ago, Cloud had determined that he was going to finally close the gap between him and Tifa, that he was going to air out his feelings in the wake of their hotel tryst, goddamn what the fallout might be. He could no longer live under the weight of their lack of communication or resolution about what had transpired between them, and as terrified as he was of damaging their friendship, he needed to figure this out before it killed him.

Worse than that, he hadn’t even seen Tifa since that night. Her new schedule misaligned with his, and Cloud was also certain that there was some avoidance happening here, neither one of them extending an invitation to the other to hang out or go anywhere the way they had before _it_ had happened.

_It_. The event, the moment, the breaking point when he had his lips wrapped around her tender clit, stroking her to complete lunacy, his name bursting from her throat in sobs that outmatched anything he had heard in his wildest, most desperate dreams.

What he wouldn’t give to relive that moment, to hear her make those sounds and to taste her, sweet on his tongue again.

Instead, their exchanges via text had revolved around the safest of topics, how their days were going, checking up on each other but never graduating to anything beyond that. Cloud hated himself, feeling like a complete coward and a failure, but he was frozen, unable to do anything at all about it.

The only thing he could do was channel his misery into his writing. He’d written Tifa at least six different poems, none of which he ever had any intention of giving to her in the near future. And he’d at least made some progress with the book he was trying to write, though he found himself writing in disjointed fragments, his memories of the war overseas mimicked in most of the scenes he wrote, and his cynicism over Tifa’s new job and that fuckboy Rufus Shinra fueling the evil corporation that sat in the backdrop of the tale he was trying to weave.

Zack had fallen into the chair across from him, reaching for the remote and shutting the television off. He gave Cloud an uncharacteristically serious look before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Listen to me, Cloud,” he began, sky blue eyes narrowing. “If you don’t talk to Tifa, you’re going to make yourself sick and you’re just going to drive her straight into that Shinra asshole’s arms.”

What a fucking way to start the conversation. Cloud shifted in his seat, feeling the anger begin to boil inside of him, the cords in his neck pulling tight.

“That’s right, get pissed,” Zack goaded. “You’ve been sitting around this apartment, wallowing in self-pity, not doing a damn thing, while I bet that prick is pulling every move in the book on her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already taken her out.”

“Zack,” Cloud warned, feeling his neck grow dangerously hot.

“Well, what are you going to do about it, Cloud?” Zack was shaking his head. “Aerith tells me everything, and she says Tifa’s acting just like you, laid up in her room all the time, miserable. Clearly, she’s waiting for you to make a move. So what is it gonna be, huh, buddy? You gonna get your girl or let some rich playboy in a fancy suit snag her?”

“Fuck,” Cloud bit out in response, tossing his head back and slamming it against the back of the couch.

Zack was leaning forward over his knees. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. I would have lost my mind by this point if I hadn’t made a move on Aerith. But I do know one thing. You’re really gonna regret it if you find out that Rufus Shinra’s been making Tifa sound the way that you made her sound on New Year’s Eve.”

At that, Cloud was at his feet, making for his jacket by the door and pulling it on.

“And just where are you going?” Zack demanded from the couch.

“Across the street,” Cloud snapped, slamming the door behind him. 

He could hear Zack’s laughter boom from inside the apartment all the way down the hall as he made his way toward the elevators.

It was early evening on a Sunday night, dusk just beginning to descend on the neighborhood, leaving everything shadowed in purples and indigos. And although it was frigid, the temperatures deep in the teens, Cloud felt nothing but heat as he crossed Sterling Place, all anger and rage and passion and desire.

If Rufus Shinra so much as laid a finger on Tifa Lockhart, Cloud Strife was definitely going to catch a case.

Impulsively, he made his way up the steps of Tifa’s brownstone, his heart rocketing through his chest as a thousand alarms went off in his head, warning him to abort mission. But the desperation and the panic inside of him was winning that battle, and he pressed his thumb roughly against her doorbell, a little too long and a little too hard.

Moments passed before he heard soft footsteps pad down the stairs inside. As the door finally opened, he realized that he had been holding his breath.

Tifa appeared, her hair piled high on her head in a thick, sloppy bun, wearing another fucking yoga suit or whatever the fuck it was called. This time she was dressed in royal blue, a brilliant contrast with her pale skin. Soft, royal blue yoga pants that seemed to be made of a stretchy terry-cloth material, a matching hoodie that was unzipped, revealing the tight white tank top she wore underneath. It was immediately apparent that she was not wearing a bra.

_Fuck_.

“Cloud!” She exclaimed, clearly surprised to see him. Her eyes widened slightly, then scanned over him, taking him in from head to toe.

Was she checking him out?

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she finally said. “Is everything alright?” 

Cloud expelled the breath he had been holding in, leaning against the doorway, placing one hand above his head. “Yeah, all good. I just stopped by because… I wanted to talk to you.”

Tifa blinked, suddenly frozen, and Cloud realized that already, he was turning this into a fucking disaster.

“I mean, if that’s okay,” he added softly, sounding like a complete idiot.

Tifa snapped out of her daze, nodding and stepping out of his way. “Yes, of course. Come in.”

Cloud stepped inside, Tifa quietly closing the door behind him before leading him up the stairs to her apartment, his heart ricocheting into near collapse the entire way up.

When they reached her flat, Cloud realized that it was the first time he’d ever been inside. It was pretty and feminine, and way cleaner and nicer than the pigsty he and Zack lived in. It was embarrassing, really.

Aerith, to his great dismay, was seated on the couch, dozens of papers spread out in front of her on the coffee table.

“Cloud!” She exclaimed as he entered behind Tifa, a bright smile lighting up her emerald green eyes. “What a pleasant surprise. Should have brought my boy toy with you too, though!”

“Um, Aerith,” Tifa softly interjected, tossing her friend a look. Aerith stared for just a moment, then suddenly realized something, turning to gather her papers into her hands.

“Oh, I can finish this in my room,” she informed them for no reason whatsoever as she got to her feet. “Nice to see you, Cloud,” she tacked on, tossing Tifa a wink.

Once she had disappeared, Tifa turned to Cloud, gesturing to the couch. “Do you want anything to drink?” she offered.

“Nah,” Cloud answered. Time to rip the bandaid off. Though truth be told, he wouldn’t have argued with a strong shot of straight liquor right about now to steel his nerves.

Tifa nodded, dropping into the couch, Cloud slowly following suit and taking a seat, maintaining a respectful distance from her and instantly averting his eyes away, too compelled to stare at her breasts and her narrow waist and those full, squeezable hips.

“So,” she began, “What did you want to talk about?”

Cloud had to look at her now, roped in by the shy, tentative edge in her voice that reminded him of her when they were kids, when he had first started to fall in love with her, if he was being completely honest with himself.

“Tifa, I…” he started, feeling himself falter, beginning to hate himself all over again. Why was this so goddamn hard? Why was he such a fuck up? Why was it that Zack seemed to be able to handle situations like this so flawlessly, while he couldn’t even work his tongue in his mouth properly to form words?

“Hm?” Tifa coaxed, scooting a little closer to him on the couch, bringing with her something cherry and strawberry-scented.

He swallowed, suddenly aware that she was beginning to unravel his sanity just by sitting there beside him. He turned to her, letting their eyes meet, finding himself drowning in the grenache of her irises.

“Tifa… about that night, on New Year’s…” he finally said it, but he let the words hang in the air, inconclusive.

Tifa’s cheeks brightened, and she turned away, clearly embarrassed. Cloud felt like a complete idiot all over again.

“I - I’m sorry about that, Cloud,” she blustered, staring down at her fingers. “I don’t know what came over me. I had too much to drink, and -“

Panicking, Cloud leaned forward towards her. _No, no, no_! This was not how this was supposed to go!

“Tifa, you don’t need to apologize,” he consoled softly. “I’m glad it happened.”

She finally turned to look up at him, her eyes a little misty, her cheeks still pink. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“I want it to happen again,” he found himself saying, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw her face brighten again as she stared back at him. She began to smile, but quickly walked it back, turning away from him and shaking her head almost sadly.

“I don’t know, Cloud,” she began, and Cloud felt the desperate panic begin to spike in his central nervous system again. “I just… I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, and… I don’t know if I can handle a relationship right now.”

“Is this about Rufus Shinra?” Cloud couldn’t stop himself from asking, and instantly, he regretted it, especially seeing the way that Tifa’s spine suddenly snapped, sitting her up straighter as if he’d slapped her.

_Shit_.

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, because she was instantly at her feet, walking away from the couch with her arms crossed under her breasts. He could tell from the deep frown and the twisted look on her face that she was _pissed_.

“Absolutely not,” she hissed. “I do not like Rufus Shinra at all. Why would you even ask me that?” 

She stepped away even further, nearing the wall next to the television, and Cloud’s panic had fully erupted, dragging him to his feet.

“Shit, Tifa, I’m sorry,” he declared, following behind her. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I don’t want Rufus,” Tifa choked out, and Cloud saw her shoulders shudder, realizing with horror that she was crying. He took another step closer to her, just as she turned around, tears in her eyes as she faced him.

“The only person I want is you,” she whispered.

Cloud stared for just a moment before his body began to act, closing the distance between them and backing her up against the wall, his palms reaching for her face. As soon as she collided into it, Cloud pressed himself against her, his lips melding with hers at once.

Her lips were so soft, and now, not under the debilitating and confusing haze of alcohol, Cloud could savor every taste and sensation and texture beneath his tongue as his greeted hers. Her hands came up around his neck, pulling him in close, a moan escaping her lips and swallowed by his as she opened her mouth even wider to accept him. He dropped his hands from the sides of her face, lowering them in a long trail down the winding highways of her body until they rested at the juncture of her waist and hips.

Pressed up against her like this, her teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip before offering it a shy, playful suck, Cloud realized how flimsy and thin this yoga shit actually was. God bless whoever had designed these things, he thought absently as her hips began to roll under him. He could feel her warmth and her softness beneath the layers of fabric, her breasts crushed against his hoodie, her core a warm heat that radiated against his groin and had his dick stiffening under his sweatpants.

She seemed fully aware of this, because she lifted her left leg and wrapped it high around his waist, deepening the contact between their centers. Without even thinking about it, Cloud dropped one hand to her thigh, securing it around him as he pressed up against her, producing a gasp from her throat.

He pulled his lips away from hers, finally breaking their kiss, his eyes glowing bright and blue as they connected with hers, a starry, shining crimson. Her mouth was still open, her breath escaping in tiny pants as he began to slowly grind his erection against her.

“You want me?” he asked her in a whisper, dipping his face dangerously closer to hers.

She nodded slowly, her face beginning to contort slightly in the first telltale coils of pleasure, sending a virulent strain of desire through his blood. “I want you.”

He groaned, slamming his free hand on the wall behind her, caging her in, before dropping it into her hair and tearing the elastic out of it so that her locks tumbled in a messy, dark spill of licorice around her shoulders. “I want you too,” he growled, dropping his teeth to her neck.

He heard her keen as he drove his hips against hers, pulling her thigh higher and tighter around his waist so that he could grind his cock even closer against her heat, imagining her pretty shaved pussy, wet and pink and swollen under those layers of fabric. The thought had him rutting more forcefully against her, his hand now sliding up her thigh to grip and squeeze her ass.

“Oh, Cloud,” she suddenly moaned, and Cloud realized he might have just hit her spot.

He stopped, then rolled his hips slowly in the same fashion, looking down at her, releasing a slow breath.

“Right there?” he asked, his voice a decibel above a whisper, grinding again, watching her slam her head against the wall as her beautiful features twisted.

“There,” she exhaled, breathless. “Oh, there, please. Please, baby.”

_Fuuckk. Baby._ She was going to kill him.

Cloud continued rotating his hips against her in exactly the same way, the contact between them sending flames into his skull, Tifa’s pants escalating into heady moans and then eventually desperate mewls and whines. Remembering that her friend was just down the hall, he clasped his hand around her mouth.

“Shhh,” he scolded her gently, giving her a particularly rough thrust. “You’re making too much noise, baby girl.”

Her eyes widened, pleading with him as he continued to grind, and when she fell almost silent again, he lowered his hand and dipped his mouth to hers, pulling her back in for a long, indulgent kiss that flared the fire between them and had his cock ready to explode in his pants.

“Oh, Cloud,” Tifa suddenly cried, pulling her mouth away from his. “I’m so close, baby, please don’t stop. I’m about to-“

He was leaning in, about to bite her neck, growling, just as the doorbell rang, a bright, cheerful flare that cut through the air and stabbed through his brain like a sword.

“Fuck!” he thundered next to her ear, slamming his palm against the wall three times in furious frustration.

“Oh, my god,” Tifa rambled, her breath completely stolen. She lowered her leg from his waist, backing up slightly and severing the contact, tears in her eyes as her climax drifted away, now out of reach. 

Cloud heard a door open down the hall, and realized with horror that Aerith was emerging. He backed away from Tifa, giving her space and wiping his mouth.

Aerith appeared in the living room, her eyes falling to them and taking in their disheveled state, widening as she realized exactly what had been happening. Cloud saw the faint ghost of a smile pull at her lips before she blushed slightly and turned away.

“Oh,” she cleared her throat, making her way toward the foyer. “I’ll just get the door.”

She disappeared, and Cloud took another step back from Tifa, still trying to catch his breath, the pain in his groin unbearable. Tifa was fixing her clothing, zipping up her hoodie in an attempt to gain some modesty. Cloud could still see her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

“Tifa?” Aerith’s voice chimed from behind them, and Cloud turned to see Aerith entering the living room, leading a tall man behind her.

Brian Fucking Lockhart.

Tifa’s goddamn father.

Cloud couldn’t think of a worse person who could have shown up at this moment. He had secretly been hoping it was Zack; even Rufus fucking Shinra would have been better than this.

But Tifa’s father?

“Tifa,” Brian admonished severely, his voice slicing through the air in the room like a blade. Even Aerith looked completely terrified at his side, and she quickly turned and made herself scarce from the living room.

Brian gave Cloud a once-over, his face crumbling with dissatisfaction and scorn before he turned to Tifa, absorbing her still somewhat heavy breathing and the flush in her cheeks and neck.

“Dad?” she whimpered, and Cloud wished lightning would just strike him dead and put him out of his fucking misery. “What are you doing here?”

Brian’s face was pinched tight with disagreement, his mustache twitching above his lips. “Tifa, there are some things I need to discuss with you, concerning the Company and…” he turned back to Cloud, imparting with him the most baleful look he could muster. “…Rufus. And we must talk alone.”

Cloud wondered how much Tifa would hate him if he punched her father right in the jaw.

In response, Tifa turned to him, giving his arm a gentle push. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her face still pink with embarrassment. “Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

Cloud wanted to protest, wanted to argue and refuse, but he knew this was a losing battle. Instead, he nodded at her, turning to Brian, but Brian had already turned away from him and was staring directly into Tifa’s face.

Heaving a sigh, Cloud shook his head and made his way out of Tifa’s apartment, zipping his jacket back up against the cold night air outside, suffering from the worst blue balls he had ever experienced in his life.

And he realized, that not once, had Tifa’s father even acknowledged him.

_Motherfucker_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> Some of the financial scenes/conversations in this chapter were definitely inspired by the show Billions and Bobby Axelrod.
> 
> Also, the Shinra building was inspired by the Goldman-Sachs building that is actually on West Street.
> 
> And Manhatta is a real restaurant!
> 
> I hope you all are still enjoying! Feel free to leave a comment and holla at me on twitter @nitezintodreamz
> 
> Until next time 💜💫💋


	6. Too Much Faith In The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> Don't mind that chapter count.  
> i have no idea what I am doing.
> 
> Anyway, I continue to be floored by the kindness in this fandom. Thank you all so much for being so gracious and kind and loving.
> 
> Big thanks again to Spaceodementia for being a beta and a friend. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Last Train to Brooklyn

—————— 

Chapter Six 

Too Much Faith in The Stars

Tifa inhaled deeply, her hands trembling at her sides, her heart stammering in her chest, her breath still ragged and her skin still hot. Her father was standing in the center of the living room, his expression pulled back into a severe glower, studying her face with his eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

Cloud had left moments ago, leaving Tifa alone with her father in the living room, all of the air sucked out of the room when the door had closed behind him. Now, standing alone with her father’s penetrating, accusatory glare on her, Tifa felt her nerves begin to eclipse, anxiety bubbling up and expanding in her gut.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Tifa finally spoke, her voice small and choked by the embarrassment that still flooded her body. Just moments ago, Cloud had her pressed against the wall, grinding against her and sending new, hot sensations of pleasure coursing through her senses, and she had been seconds away from exploding into stardust when the doorbell rang. It had been a brutal interruption, but the horror of the situation was only magnified by the reality that it was _her father_ of all people who had chosen that exact moment to visit, and she was still disheveled and flushed, awash with scorching desire and an ache that badly needed to be assuaged.

It was a terrible condition to be in, standing in front of her father in this state, his scornful grimace informing her that he knew everything that had been happening prior to his arrival.

Brian tipped his head at her before dropping onto her couch, unbuttoning his jacket as he settled one arm out over its back, watching her carefully. In tandem, Tifa turned, catching her breath and willing her heartbeat to slow, and took a seat in the armchair, facing him.

He ran his hand over his mustache for a moment before shaking his head at her.

“Was that that Strife bastard from Colorado?” he asked suddenly, thumbing back at the door where Cloud had departed moments ago.

Tifa blinked, feeling the heated flush of arousal she was still living under transform suddenly into anger. She sat up straighter, glancing back at him, shaking her head.

“Dad…”

“I hope you are not getting involved with that boy, Tifa,” her father cautioned, and Tifa once again hated the condescension in his tone, not too dissimilar from how Rufus had so dismissively referred to Cloud. “He is _absolutely_ no good for you. I remember his family well; complete trash.”

Tifa’s mouth opened, her eyes widening in surprise, but her father went on relentlessly, crossing one leg over the other as he looked at her sternly.

“His father left that family in so much debt,” Brian added, shaking his head. “His mother defaulted on so many loans, she was the biggest liability I had ever seen in all of my years at Bank of the West,” he shook his head. “And she had no control over that boy. He was always getting into trouble, I remember your mother talking about it all of the time. I couldn’t imagine why she insisted on being friends with that woman.”

He was shaking his head, clearly disdained, but Tifa could only stare, feeling pressure build inside of her chest.

“I don’t know what he is doing here, in New York,” Brian continued, “But Tifa, I forbid you to entertain him. A boy like that is nothing but trouble, and is certainly not worth your time nor is he any good for you. Rufus has already made mention of this to me, which was something I intended to talk to you about. A security guard? Laughable.”

Tifa stared, disbelieving. Rufus had brought Cloud up to her father? What sort of grotesque conspiracy were these men playing with her life?

“Dad,” Tifa’s voice had taken on a tentative, warning edge. “What are you talking about?”

Brian tilted his head at her, offering her a disapproving look. “Tifa, you are not a little girl anymore,” he chastised her, and Tifa felt her cheeks brighten with humiliation. “I know that you had your ideals about things, but now we need to start thinking seriously about your future.”

“Please elaborate,” Tifa couldn’t stop herself from biting out.

Brian pursed his lips into a thin line until they disappeared beneath his mustache. “A woman like you needs to be very careful when considering the kinds of men that you would invite into your life,” he began. “You are very wealthy, in case you have forgotten, and poor, average Joes like Strife would go out of their way to attach themselves to you. This is a dangerous game to be playing.”

Tifa could not believe what she was hearing. Was her father actually suggesting that Cloud might only be interested in her money?

Her father couldn’t possibly be that cynical, could he? _Or that stupid?_

“Not only that,” he continued ruthlessly, “But you now have a very prominent role in one of the largest institutions in the world. You need to guard your reputation carefully, and that begins significantly with how you treat your personal life. It won’t be long before the tabloids are chasing after you, a young woman as successful and beautiful as you are. You do not want to give them an excuse drag your name through the mud.”

The fury that was stacking inside of her with his every word was becoming unbearable, leaving Tifa feeling like she might scream if he said another word.

“My personal life, and who I choose to date, are no one’s business,” she informed him carefully.

“That may be the way that you see it, Tifa,” her father replied. “But I can assure you, that nothing is further from the truth. You were born into a certain position in life, and you are simply going to have to learn to accept what comes with that.”

Tifa’s knee began to buckle and sway.

Brian sighed, shaking his head again. “I’ve learned that Rufus asked you out, and that you refused him,” he said in a low, serious tone. “What are you thinking? Are you trying to embarrass me, Tifa?”

Tifa’s eyes widened in shock, and she wondered if it were possible for this conversation to get any worse from here. 

She started to respond, but her father was at his feet, suddenly pacing as he continued, waving a finger down at her. “If Rufus Shinra asks you on a date, Tifa, _goddamnit_ , you accept,” he scolded. “I don’t have time for your childish behavior. And Rufus would be _good_ for you. He’s older, mature, and _stable_.”

Tifa had never been a disrespectful or defiant daughter, but she was moments away from snapping at her father, seconds from cursing him for the audacity of his words, they were so unbelievable. She was well aware of the control that he was trying to leverage over her life, but this was a bridge too far, flaming her neck hot, the rage threatening to boil over in a nasty outburst.

“No,” Tifa replied evenly, working hard to control herself. “I am not interested in dating him.”

Brian stopped his pacing, turning to face her, a threatening look on his face.

“Tifa,” he warned, “Do not defy me. This is about more than just your silly crush on that Strife boy. This is about your future and mine, and our future with the Company.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, certain that he was not suggesting that somehow, he wanted her to date Rufus as part of some ploy to improve his own standing with the Shinras.

“What are you saying?” She asked him slowly, her hands balling up into fists in her lap.

Brian resumed his seat on the couch, this time leaning forward over his knees, adjusting his necktie. “All I am saying,” he responded in a level, even tone, “Is that if Rufus Shinra asks you out again, you accept. At least give him a chance.”

 _Not a chance in hell_ , Tifa thought, though she said nothing.

Her father sighed, leaning back on the couch again, his eyes narrowed at her.

“There is something else,” he said slowly.

Tifa just waited, her heart beating viciously loud in her chest.

“I need you to be very careful in how you conduct yourself when working with Shinra Capitol’s accounts,” he informed her. “I am sure you don’t need me to warn you about the importance of discretion, but some of this firm’s investments are extremely delicate. And they have earned quite a bit of attention from external interests. We need to exercise caution.”

Tifa blinked, unsure of what he was trying to communicate, but was suddenly reminded of CorelCorp and that U.S. Attorney who had cornered her a few days ago.

“What is this about, Dad?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Just be reminded that you are bound to a non-disclosure agreement concerning your employment with the firm,” he warned.

Tifa studied his face, trying to read the thinly veiled implications of what he was saying, trying to decipher the words he was not mentioning. Narrowing her eyes, she sat up straighter.

“Does this have anything to do with that U.S. Attorney?” she asked him, matter of factly, keeping her tone neutral.

Her father quirked an eyebrow, brown eyes both narrowing. “What US Attorney, Tifa? Has someone already been talking to you?”

“Reeve Tuesti,” she responded. “He approached me a few days outside of Headquarters, asking about trades with CorelCorp, about your involvement in them. And Rufus just had us make a huge sell-off of CorelCorp shares. What’s going on?”

Brian stared at her, then shook his head, letting out a brief, dark chuckle.

“Tuesti, huh? Already? Tifa, do not talk to that man,” her father warned. “He is an opportunist. He is planning to run for governor next year, and is looking to make a name for himself ahead of the election by going after Wall Street firms. He’s been digging for something to sink his teeth into for years. He wouldn’t know the first thing about business or finance if it hit him in the jaw. Just another holier-than-thou, sanctimonious government lawyer.”

Tifa felt bile begin to rise in her belly, biting down on her bottom lip to hold it back. She dropped her hands to her sides on the chair she sat in, her nails digging deep into the cushion’s fabric.

“There is nothing to worry about, Tifa,” her father continued. “Let Tuesti poke and prod all he wants. The business conducted at Shinra is perfectly legitimate. Just avoid him at all costs and do not tell him anything about the work that we conduct in the firm. You are under no obligation whatsoever to speak to him. If you feel uncomfortable, you may request the assistance of General Counsel Tseng, or one of our other attorneys on retainer.”

Tifa wanted to laugh at that, hardly believing that Tseng would do anything to help her at all.

Sighing, Brian pushed up to his feet again, buttoning his coat and looking down on her with a purely contemplative look on his face.

“Consider everything that I said,” he advised her calmly. “These are serious matters, Tifa, and I expect you to behave with the grace and poise I know you are capable of.”

With that, he bent down to press a kiss to her forehead, his lips burning her flesh.

“I’ll call you later in the week.”

Tifa watched him wordlessly as he left her apartment, closing the door behind him and making his way down the stairs outside of her foyer.

When he was gone, she dropped her head into her hands, feeling tears well up in the corner of her eyes. Her entire body was now shaking, she realized, completely seized by his audacity and his threats. Dumbfounded, she poured over his words and the violent edge of his commands to her, insisting that she sacrifice everything, not only her hopes and dreams for her own goals in life, but now even her most personal affairs.

There was no way that she was going to date Rufus Shinra. She did not care what her father said.

“Tifa?”

Tifa looked up, seeing that Aerith had reappeared in the living room, making her way over to the couch. Tifa glanced over at her, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her fists.

“What’s wrong?” her friend immediately asked. “What did your father want?”

Tifa shook her head. “Oh, Aerith, my dad has completely lost his mind,” she blurted, shaking her head. “Not only is he forcing me to work at Shinra, but now he is actually encouraging me to date Rufus. And worse yet, I think he might be involved in something illegal!”

Aerith held her hands up, concern suddenly etched across her face as she leaned forward. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. That’s a lot to take in. Let’s start from the beginning. Dating Rufus?”

Tifa got to her feet; just hearing Aerith repeat the words to her sent a flare of anger and anxiety into her throat. “I can’t believe it, Aerith. Rufus has been pursuing me relentlessly since I started. He dragged me to a god-awful lunch, invited me to the Hamptons, and tried to corner me into going out on a date with him.” She began to pace between her chair and the television across the room, side-stepping the coffee table, Aerith’s eyes following her as she went back and forth. She stopped then, dropping her hands to her hips as she glared at Aerith as if somehow this were all her fault.

“But Aerith, I can handle Rufus,” she gasped, shaking her head again. “I can turn him down. But I can’t handle my father. He wants me to date Rufus, and he basically threatened me.”

It was Aerith’s turn to stand, and she rose and crossed over to Tifa, reaching up to her friend who was a few inches taller than her and settling her warm hands on her shoulders, trying to quell the tension that was rushing up inside of her and threatening to burst through the floodgates. 

“Threaten? Listen to me, Tifa. Take a deep breath, and listen. Your father cannot force you to do anything you don’t want to do. And he can’t threaten you. You’re a grown woman. What is he going to do to you, Tifa? Think about it.”

Tifa shook her head and turned away, not wanting to respond to that, but Aerith was relentless, pulling her shoulders so that she was forced to face her again.

“Worse than that,” Tifa found herself finally sighing, “He hates Cloud. I knew he didn’t like him when we were kids, but now, I know why… and I’m disgusted. He forbid me to see him.”

At that, Aerith snapped her head back as if she had been slapped, her tongue making a sharp clicking noise against her teeth.

“Tifa, are you hearing me?” Aerith’s voice was now bright and sharp, and Tifa could see the pulsing viridian flickers in her eyes, indicating that she was also furious. “He cannot _force_ you to date anyone, and he can’t tell you who you can or cannot see! This isn’t the fifteenth century!”

Tifa expelled a sigh, nodding, knowing that Aerith was right, but also knowing that she lacked the courage to fight her father, that this was a losing battle, and feeling like her only option might be to run, she was feeling so caged.

“And what’s this about illegal activity?” Aerith went on.

At that, the air left Tifa’s lungs, and she stepped away and collapsed back onto the armchair, now dropping her head in her hands, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. She heard Aerith step closer to her, her soft breathing waiting above. 

“Tifa?” 

Finally, Tifa looked up and sat up, exhaling deeply. “There’s a U.S. Attorney investigating my dad, maybe investigating the entire company. He already questioned me. My dad pretty much told me to keep my mouth shut.”

Aerith sighed, dropping back into her seat on the couch. “Investigating him for what, Tifa?”

Tifa was looking down at her hands, where her fingers had begun to roll and twist over each other. “I’m not really sure. But I’ve heard some suspicious things in the office involving certain stocks and accounts. It could be insider trading, or worse.”

“There’s something worse than that?” Aerith asked with a laugh, but Tifa only shook her head.

Aerith’s giggling died in her throat. “Okay, listen, Tifa. This is New York. The law here is… ambitious. And they are very aggressive with Wall Street, especially after the last financial crash. Maybe he’s just overzealous. I mean, do you really think your father could be capable of something like that?”

Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat, realizing that she wasn’t sure anymore, that maybe, she’d never really known who her father was.

“I’m tired,” Tifa suddenly announced. “I need to go to bed.”

Tifa swiped her phone soundlessly off of the coffee table, ambling down the hall to her room without another word to her best friend, closing the door behind her before she fell face-first across her bed, letting the mattress bounce gently with the weight of her fall.

She laid silently in the darkness for a long moment, before she eventually lifted her head, hearing her heart in her ears again, feeling the rise of adrenaline that accompanied the spiking anxious energy that had clouded around her. As much as Aerith had been right and was trying to help, Tifa still felt trapped by her own inability to do anything about the situation she found herself in, by her inability to stand up to her father and extract herself completely from this entire mess.

At that thought, she felt tears threaten her eyes again, and she willed them away, swallowing the heavy mass in the center of her throat that was eager to reveal itself as a sob. Instead, she pulled her phone toward her face, swiping up to unlock the screen and glancing down at the swirling, liquified colors in the display.

She hesitated for a moment before she navigated to Cloud’s contact, opening up his text message window.

 **_Tifa:_ ** _Hey. I’m really sorry about that_

 **_Cloud:_ ** _Hey. It’s okay._

 **_Tifa:_ ** _No it’s not. My dad is a jerk_

 **_Cloud:_ ** _Yeah, I knew that already, but it’s not your fault._

Tifa cracked a smile at his response, rolling to her back and holding her phone over her chest as she giggled at his response.

 **_Cloud:_ ** _We still need to talk._

She bit her lip, staring at the screen for a long moment, his words staring right back at her with an ethereal glow. She thought back to the moment they’d shared just over an hour ago, hesitant confessions falling from their lips before he had her pressed against the wall, his lips melded with hers and his fingers threaded through her hair as he ground the hardest part of his body against the softest part of hers.

Just the thought of it had her growing warm and wet and swollen again.

 **_Tifa:_ ** _Are you working tomorrow?_

 **_Cloud_ ** _: I’m off._

 **_Tifa:_ ** _Can I come over when I get out of work?_

 **_Cloud:_ ** _Sure. I’ll be here._

 **_Tifa:_ ** _Okay. I’ll see you then_

She hesitated again, then added a blue heart and sent it to him. She waited, staring at the screen, her heart in the center of her throat.

A moment later, he responded, sending the same blue heart back to her.

Smiling, Tifa dropped her phone on her bedside table, pulling the covers over her head, warmth blooming over her and helping her forget her troubles, at least for a little while.

* * *

The next evening during the rush hour, Tifa rode the subway home, clutching the stanchion and holding her laptop close against her hip, her body swaying with the jerks of the train along the tracks. Rufus hadn’t been in the office today, so mercifully she’d been able to avoid him, focusing instead on her actual workload for the majority of the day, pouring over accounts and reports and responding to client inquiries. She avoided most of the other analysts and strategists on their team, though Elena had stopped by a few times to chat. As uneventful as it had been, it had still been a Monday, and Tifa was feeling the typical exhaustion that was associated with the start of the workweek. 

And now, she was on her way to Cloud’s apartment, ready to follow up on the conversation that they’d started the night before, a conversation that had been first interrupted by their own desire for each other, and ultimately by the untimely arrival of her father.

Tifa pushed that thought from her mind as her train came to a stop in Park Slope and she began to carefully file out of the subway behind the throngs of the workday crowds. Now that a day had passed since that moment, Tifa’d had time to ruminate on the fiery state of her relationship with Cloud and how it was beginning to quickly spiral out of control. With everything in her life in a constant state of flux and tumult, her relationship with Cloud was just another lighting bolt in the center of the storm. She was torn between wanting to be with him, to fully confess the true depths of her desire, to let him know that they went far deeper than a mere physical attraction, and that she was falling for him. The logical part of her brain didn’t want to invite the complications and drama of a relationship into her life, especially one that would make her father angry and inflame the already thorny challenges in her life.

As she walked through Park Slope, the sky already dark and the harsh winter wind biting her cheeks, she wondered how she could navigate her feelings and the realities that were crashing in around her, and why she couldn’t summon the courage to do as Aerith always unhelpfully suggested, and just _follow her heart_. Could she ever do what she wanted without worrying about what everyone else around her expected of her?

As she rounded Sterling Place and approached Cloud’s complex, she sent him a quick text to let him know she was close. The front desk buzzed her in, her heart riding her throat the entire journey she took the elevator up to his floor.

She held her breath after she’d knocked on his door, but it was only moments later when he appeared in the doorway, pulling it open and making room for her to enter. 

“Hey, Teef,” he greeted her softly, tossing his head in a nod so that his fluffy yellow fringe brushed across his forehead. He was wearing sweats again, dark grey pants and a pullover hoodie with the words US ARMY stamped across the front in camouflage embroidery. Already, she could detect his masculine scent, crisp and clean and pleasant, not overpowering, but inviting and somehow tranquil.

“Hey, Cloud.” 

She stepped into his living room, hearing the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire erupt from the television across the room, finding a shock of black hair peer up from behind the couch. As Cloud locked the door behind her, Zack paused his game and dropped the controller, turning to her with a wave.

“Oh, hey, Tifa,” he offered her a bright grin. She noticed he was still wearing his cadet uniform, but that his shirt was unbuttoned and disheveled. 

“I’ll get out of you guys’ way.” He got to his feet, offering Cloud a knowing look. “Don’t touch my game, bro. I haven’t hit a checkpoint yet.”

Cloud tossed him a completely disinterested shrug, and Zack disappeared from the living room, down the hall to his own room.

“Let me get your coat,” Cloud offered.

Tifa shrugged out of it, offering him her laptop bag as well. He accepted them both, but Tifa noticed the way that his eyes lingered when they caught sight of her skirt suit, traveling the length of her body down to her legs before he caught himself and turned away quickly, blushing as he went to hang her bag and coat by the door.

Her heart was square in the center of her throat again when he came back, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Um, you want something to drink?”

She shook her head, though she admitted that a strong shot of alcohol or at the very least, a glass of ice-cold water might help her nerves settle so she could get through this.

“No, thanks.”

He gestured to the couch, then cursed at the empty chip bag and game controller that Zack had left in the center of it. He muttered an annoyed apology to her under his breath as he cleared the mess away, and Tifa couldn’t help but smile when she finally settled into the couch next to him.

She realized as soon as she sat that she hadn’t put very much space between them, though that hadn’t been her intention when she’d dropped into the couch. She blushed, feeling his warmth beside her, and Cloud shifted slightly in his seat, leaning even closer to her.

“So…” he began, his voice trailing off, dissipating as words failed.

“So,” Tifa picked up, but found herself similarly stuck. 

_Damnit, Tifa! Just say something!_

“About last night,” he scratched the back of his neck again, and she quickly caught on that this seemed to be a nervous habit of his.

 _He’s so cute_ , she thought, unable to stop herself from looking up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she began, but Cloud was moving closer to her at that.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked her, and then, his hand was in her lap, finding hers and wrapping it inside of his.

She dipped her chin a little, her cheeks stained pink as the blood rose, especially as she realized that Cloud’s deep blue stare was locked on to her face. Truth be told, she didn’t know why she was constantly apologizing. It seemed to be her favorite go-to whenever things got awkward or she didn’t know what to say, and she realized that she was doing it constantly, found that she was more and more uttering those words to placate others, especially men.

It made her feel just a little disgusted.

She shook her head, trying to operationalize her thoughts into words, yet unsure how to voice what she was thinking to Cloud. As if he sensed her distress, he drew in even closer, this time putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, Tifa,” he consoled her softly. 

Hearing the quiet timbre in his voice, she turned to look up at him, their eyes meeting, and his gaze was softer than she could ever remember him looking at her.

“Tifa, when I came by last night…” he trailed off again, but this time she stayed silent, watching his brow as he warred internally for words. “…I wanted to tell you how I felt.”

He left it at that, his eyes holding hers, cerulean irises darting back and forth as he tried to gauge her reaction. His hand was still holding hers, and boldly, suddenly wanting to encourage him, Tifa turned her palm in his so that their fingers lined up, and she let their fingers interlock together, giving him a little squeeze.

The warmth that passed between them at that point of contact seemed to jolt him like an electric shock, hitching his breath and sitting him up a little straighter, his arm curling tighter around her. 

“Tifa, I’ve liked you for a really long time,” he admitted, dropping his eyes, as if he were afraid his whispered confessions might escape into the wind and expose him for the world to see. He dipped his face closer to the side of hers until his forehead was mere inches from her temple. “I mean, I think I even liked you, in a way, back when we were kids. You were always so nice and smart and pretty… but since I moved to New York… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words left him in a rush, and he was turning away again, his cheeks bright pink. Tifa, for her part, was crumbling inside, not expecting the depth of his disclosure, not anticipating the sweetness and the intimacy of it. Her heart was running a race inside her chest, pounding wild and free against her ribcage, and she was almost certain he could hear it, with how close he was sitting.

Tifa’s feelings for Cloud had blossomed like a lily leaning into the sunlight after a dewy rainfall in the months since she encountered him on the M train, but she realized that even though their contact and their friendship had withered in the years after she left Colorado, she had always had an affinity for him, and that their chance meeting in this city had only rekindled something that had been there all along.

She looked up at him, leaning forward so that her temple finally did bump into his forehead. At that, his eyes were back on her face.

“I like you, too, Cloud,” she admitted, her voice much smaller than she could ever remember hearing it, almost making her sound child-like. “And… I think I’ve always felt something strong for you, too, even back in Colorado. It’s why I was so happy to run into you here, to have you back in my life.”

Cloud exhaled a slow breath as if relieved, leaning into their forehead press.

“Tifa,” he breathed, and his thumb was now stroking the inside of her palm, a tender sensation that left her feeling giddy. “I meant it when I said I wanted you. So… what does this mean? What do you want?”

 _What a question_ , she thought, closing her eyes to focus, unable to concentrate when she was looking into the swirling sparkles of his blue, blue eyes. His question carried such a weight behind it, so open-ended and placing so much on her to decide. 

It was just yet another burden that she was shouldering as her life continued to careen out of control around her.

“Cloud, I…” she tried to summon her words as her voice broke off, keeping her eyes shut as she frantically searched her brain for her best vocabulary to assemble it into something coherent. “I… I don’t know. I’m scared. My life is a mess right now, and I’m not sure if a relationship would be healthy right now. I don’t want to give myself to something I can’t be fully present for, and I wouldn’t want to hurt you or not be there for you.”

“Tifa, I’ll be anything to you that you want me to be,” he responded without hesitation, forcing her to open her eyes in surprise, crimson crashing into blue as their eyes met. “Anything you need from me, I’ll give you.”

She swallowed carefully at his words, her heart now beating so violently she was afraid it might burst out of her chest. His words were a curious, dangerous blend of sweetness and electrifyingly suggestiveness, and they instantly sent a warm tingle between her thighs. She exhaled slowly, holding his gaze as she chose her next words carefully.

“Maybe we should just take it slow,” she suggested, following his reaction and giving his hand another squeeze.

She watched the corner of his mouth turn up in a slight smile, and then he was pulling his fingers away from where they were threaded with hers, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently as he continued looking into her eyes.

“We can take it as slowly as you want, Tifa,” he vowed. “I’ll wait for you as long as I have to. I promise.”

Those words melted her, sent her bones into puddles, forcing her to lean toward him with a barely-audible moan. He caught her by pressing his lips against hers in a closed-lip kiss, and instantly, Tifa had her arms around his neck.

This kiss, unlike their previous ones, was truly shy and tentative, seeking approval. Tifa felt the warmth of his lips against hers, soft and pleading, asking her for her permission for more. She separated her lips, letting him slide his over hers more fully, and with his tongue and teeth against hers came the reminder of their previously shared passions, flaring a deep ache inside of her. Tifa couldn’t stop the way that she was suddenly climbing into his lap, straddling him and pressing her body close to his, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

Cloud shifted his body slightly to accept her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist to anchor her to him, her skirt riding up high on her thighs as he pressed her body against his until she could feel the peaks of her breasts ache as her nipples brushed painfully against the fabric inside of her bra. She tightened her hold on his shoulders as their kiss deepened, the dance of their tongues and the delicate glide of his palms across the expanse of her back sending sparks straight between her thighs.

She moaned into his mouth, and Cloud groaned in response, his hands wandering along her back, warm and firm. She sucked his bottom lip, and she blushed as she felt his erection against the inside of her thigh.

“Mmm, Tifa,” he growled when they broke apart for air. “I thought we were gonna take things slow?”

His fingertips were flirting under the hem of her blazer, tugging gently at her blouse where it was tucked into her skirt, and Tifa brought her hands to wrap around the back of his neck, her fingers threading into his soft, golden tufts of hair there as she stared into his eyes.

“We are,” she whispered, lips swollen from his affection. “But we can still make out, right?”

He smiled, settling against the couch a little more as she continued to stroke the nape of his neck. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Whatever you want, Tifa.”

She leaned into his smirk with her lips, reigniting the warmth that was coursing through her center with a new kiss. His lips parted instantly for hers, their tongues meeting again, their explorations becoming more vivid and desperate, flooded with sucks and gentle nips, Tifa moaning her desire low in her throat, Cloud dropping one hand to her hip to hold her down and close to him as he started to grind up at her. She widened her thighs around him, wanting to feel _more_ , her skirt riding up so high now it was almost at her waist.

“Cloud, I swear to god you’re not allowed to do laundry anymore. I can’t find my -“

Tifa pulled away from Cloud with a snap at the sound of Zack’s voice, and with a start, she turned and then rolled herself off of Cloud’s lap, pulling fretfully at her skirt and her blazer, trying to right everything as her cheeks burned, Cloud wiping his mouth and sitting upright.

“Ah! Shit!” Zack exclaimed.

“What the fuck, Zack,” Cloud growled angrily, and Tifa couldn’t stop herself from staring at the blatant outline of his erection against his sweatpants.

“Sorry!” Zack blustered, backing away toward the hallway again, now with his hands held up. “But dude, why don’t you just take her into your room? Jesus.”

“Zack!” Cloud hissed, and Tifa covered her face with her hands as Zack began to laugh and backtracked with a jog to his room.

Cloud turned to her, his cheeks also pink, and Tifa dropped her hand, feeling her cheeks burn as their eyes met.

“Sorry about that, Teef,” he apologized softly, his lips still wet with her saliva.

“It’s okay,” she replied, leaning up to swipe her thumb across his bottom lip. “We just can’t catch a break, can we?”

He laughed at that, reaching up to brush his knuckles along the curve of her cheek.

“I should get going, anyway,” she said, pulling at her clothing to further straighten it. “I still have a lot of emails and work to catch up on that I didn’t finish at the office.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he responded, his thumb now at the line of her jaw, causing her to instinctively lean into his hand. “When can I see you again?”

She smiled under his touch, finding its tenderness soothing away the anxieties that had begun to take up permanent residence in the center of her chest. 

“Soon,” she whispered in reply, “I’ll clear my calendar.”

With that, Cloud leaned forward and kissed her gently, this time soft and loving, a long kiss goodbye that melted her insides and was branded on her lips for the rest of the night after she’d left his apartment.

* * *

Unfortunately, Tifa found that she did not get the opportunity to spend any more time with Cloud the way that she wanted as the rest of the week passed, the work at Shinra beginning to pile, and her responsibilities increasing. Her father was dropping by her office often now, questioning her about several accounts, including recent transactions involving bigger entities like CorelCorp and Icicle Energy. His sudden appearances and his vague queries always left her with a profound sense of unease, wondering why he was suddenly so invested in trades that should have otherwise been routine.

Which made Tifa wonder about some of the accounts and transfers she’d been tasked with completing for Rufus recently. They were strange requests, shufflings of funds between accounts that seemed to have no relationship to one another. She was also deeply disturbed by some of the premature decisions that Rufus was making before deciding on trades, prickling at her conversations with Reeve Tuesti and with her father. It seemed that sometimes he had knowledge that he shouldn’t, information about companies and mergers and acquisitions that no one else did. 

She also noticed that Rufus seemed to be tied up in meetings with the other executives a lot more often than usual, not that she was complaining, as it created fewer opportunities for him to interact with her. He had taken to calling her to his office several times a day, pulling her from her own work so that he could sit her at his desk while he paced in front of his window, rattling off ideas and strategies for increasing their profitability, all of which continued to rub her the wrong way. But she remained rigidly compliant, keeping her back stiff as she listened to him, typing notes into her laptop and offering him her suggestions whenever he prodded for them.

Even so, his time caught up in executive sessions were not enough to halt his endless pursuit of her. He had taken to asking her to dinner daily, and despite what her father had said, she firmly refused him every time. This only seemed to encourage him, though, and he had begun to treat it as some sort of quest or game, laughing any time she turned him down, playfully teasing her about her _boyfriend_ , Cloud, until she was red in the face from a blend of anger and embarrassment. He hadn’t forced her to take lunch with him at any fancy restaurants again, but she found herself fully vexed whenever he would call her to eat in his office, or even worse, the times when he would drop into her own just as she was in the middle of bites. She hated eating in the busy Shinra cafeteria, but after the first few times he had interrupted her, she had taken to escaping there to avoid him.

It was midmorning Friday, and Tifa was counting the hours down, waiting haplessly for the weekend and especially Sunday when she knew that Cloud was off from work, hoping to take advantage and spend some time with him again. She couldn’t assuage the burn of his kisses from her lips for that entire week, couldn’t forget the feel of him hard and pressed against her, his hands hot as they traveled her body, his fingers pulling dangerously at her blouse with the intention to tear it away.

He lived in her thoughts constantly, their fleeting intimate moments filling her with longing every time she relived them. They had moved into a new space together, not defining what they were to each other but still moving forward together, finally admitting and sharing their feelings for one another that backed up the passion and attraction that was tugging them together like the magnetism between two binary stars. And he promised to move with her at her own pace, letting her navigate the stressful complexities of other parts of her life with him at her side, without any pressure at all.

She loved him for it, and she wanted, _needed_ to spend more time with him, even if they weren’t ready to take a serious leap into something well-defined yet.

“Ms. Lockhart.”

Tifa looked up from the spreadsheet she was staring at to find Tseng standing in the doorway of her office, his features pinched with severity as his coal-black eyes peered down at her. Instantly, she was pierced by the harshness in his glare, causing her to sit up straighter.

 _Wonderful_. Her favorite person in the office had come by to pay her a visit. Tseng’s mood around her had not improved in the slightest lately; he still pinned her with the same nasty looks and was short and curt with her whenever they interacted. Through Elena’s chatter, she learned that her blond colleague had a seemingly unrequited crush on him, and Tifa couldn’t imagine what she possibly found attractive or compelling about such a wildly stringent and uncompromising man.

“Yes?” she responded, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“We have a problem,” he informed her cryptically. “We need to visit the 68th floor.”

Tifa slowly rose, feeling a bizarre sense of dread roil through her shoulders, resulting in a tenseness that had her rolling them as she picked up her phone and slid it into the pocket of her blazer. 

The 68th floor was the main executive floor, where the other top brass of the company worked, her father included. Tifa rarely went down there unless there were rare occasions when she needed to interact with Scarlet or Heiddegar’s assistants for certain projects. She found herself avoiding it at all costs, not wanting any more exchanges with her father than absolutely necessary.

A problem on this floor did not sound good at all.

Tseng didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heel to leave her office, obviously expecting her to follow.

Swallowing the apprehension back, Tifa crossed out of her office, smoothing her skirt and jacket on her way out and following him down the hall to the elevator. They rode it one floor down to the 68th, and Tifa’s eyes instantly widened at the confusion that was already erupting when the doors slid open.

They stepped out to the main floor, a volley of cubicles in the center of the wide-open space that was lined along the far walls with executive suites. The assistants and analysts and brokers who worked here were all standing, looks of pure shock on their faces as they stared in one direction toward a long corridor that bordered a brilliant display of glass windows.

“FBI,” came a startling shout, clapping like a gunshot through the air.

Tifa watched in pure amazement as a troupe of federal agents descended the corridor with brisk, determined strides, their dark blue parkas emblazoned with gold lettering announcing “FBI” across their shoulders and breasts billowing behind them, pistols at their hips.

“FBI,” a man with uneven but long, black hair at the front of the pack repeated, holding up a slip of paper. “Move away from your computers, please. We have a warrant from a federal court. Please do not move from where you are standing, and allow us to do our jobs.” 

Tifa noticed that Rufus was already here, standing at one corner of the room, watching the agents with narrow, steely blue eyes as they descended on the office. 

As the group of agents approached, fanning out amongst the cubicles in the direction of the executive offices along the far wall, Tifa caught sight of Reeve Tuesti at their heels, his eyes set in focused determination as they scanned the room for a particular target before they stopped on her, their gazes meeting for a brief moment before he turned away.

“We are looking for Scarlet Price and Joseph Heiddegar,” he announced to the room, coming at a stop beside the lead agent with the long dark hair and inquisitive crimson eyes.

At that, several executive doors opened, and Tifa watched with fascination as both Heiddegar and Scarlet appeared in the thresholds of their offices, both looking angry and affronted. Her father also appeared, narrowing his focus immediately on Reeve, folding his arms across his chest.

The FBI agent turned at their appearance, making an immediate beeline toward the back of the room where Heiddegar and Scarlet both stood, Reeve at his heels. He held up the warrant in his hand as he approached, waving it in the air as if it were a bomb he was about to toss.

“Lawyer,” Heiddegar immediately shouted, and Tifa felt Tseng start anxiously at her side.

“What is the meaning of this?” Scarlet demanded.

The agent came to a stop in front of them, reaching into his jacket to produce a badge and flash it at them. “I am federal agent Vincent Valentine,” he warned. “Joseph Heiddegar, Scarlet Price, you are both under arrest for insider trading and securities fraud. You have the right to remain silent.”

Tifa blinked in amazement as two other agents rounded behind Heiddegar and Scarlet, seizing them and pulling their arms behind them with the intention to handcuff them. This set off a chain reaction of shocked gasps throughout the office, Scarlet crying profanities into the air as her wrists were locked together, putting further strain on the neckline of her dress, straining her cleavage against it. 

“This is unbelievable,” Scarlet was glaring daggers at Reeve, her painted red lips turned up into a snarl. “Tuesti, you imbecile. You have no idea what you are doing.”

“Save it for the jury,” Reeve replied, stepping out of the way as the agents led Scarlet and Heiddegar out of the room.

Tifa was so stunned by the events unfolding that she did not notice that Elena was at her side, Reno and Rude a few paces away.

“This is crazy,” Elena was muttering under her breath. Several other agents were now pushing into Scarlet and Heiddegar’s office, emerging with their desktop computers and several files and folders in hand.

Tifa noticed that Rufus had balled his hands into tight fists at his sides, anger rolling off of him so thick she could almost see it, like the shimmering waves of a heat mirage on a too-hot day. While the analysts on the floor began to murmur quietly, Tifa’s father crossing the room to join them, Rufus turned to where she stood with the rest of his team.

“Seventieth Floor,” he hedged, his voice darker and more violent than she’d ever heard it. “Now.”

* * *

Tifa felt as if she’d gone through a confusing maze by the time she was seated at the long conference table on the seventieth floor, the New York City skyline an ominous presence outside the line of windows on the opposite side of the room. She was seated with Rufus on one side and her father on the other, caged between two men she was convinced were in some sadistic collaboration to ruin her life. Also around the table were Tseng, Elena, Reno, and Rude, all of them somber-faced as they waited for President Shinra to join them.

Rufus was drumming his fingers against the table in a steady staccato, the delicate action heightening her anxiety as she sat beside him, rolling her fingers over each other while they waited. She refused to meet her father’s eyes the entire time they sat there, knowing that he was inflicting her with his own stare at occasion. Her mind was replaying Reeve’s casual questioning of her days ago and her father’s abrupt interruption of her Saturday night, obscurely warning her that something like this might come to pass without the words ever leaving his lips.

The tension in the room had grown almost suffocating when Shinra finally entered the room, a grim scowl pulled across his face. He was dressed in a deep burgundy suit that set an unsettling contrast with his yellow-blond hair, perfectly combed over in a wave across his scalp.

Wordlessly, he settled into a chair at the head of the table, at once crossing his hands together with his elbows on the table as he leaned forward, nearly resting his chin atop them. Tifa watched his eyes narrow as he looked around the room, letting his gaze settle on everyone present before they stopped on her father.

“Well,” he began finally. “Seems that Mr. Tuesti must have gotten his hands on something, for a judge to finally sign off on a warrant. Any idea what that might be, Brian?”

Tifa detected the way that her father stiffened in his chair beside her, rolling his shoulders and pulling at his vest beneath his jacket as he sat up a little straighter and turned to the president.

“No,” he answered carefully, and Tifa had never remembered hearing his voice so shaken. Her father had always been so confident and collected, haughty even, that hearing a thread of terror in his tone unnerved her. “There have been no breaches or slip-ups, that I am aware of.”

“That you’re aware of?” Shinra asked treacherously.

“No,” Brian repeated. “None.”

The president leaned back in his seat now, one hand resting atop the table, fingers now drumming in much the same way that Rufus’ previously had been.

“This is bullshit,” Reno added unhelpfully.

Tseng had been typing something into his phone, and he set it down on the table, clearing his throat. “Scarlet and Heiddegar will be released on bond by this afternoon,” he informed the group, his eyes locked with President Shinra’s. “I’ve already made the arrangements. I’ll prepare to question them upon their release to find out what might have gone wrong.”

“Excellent, General Counsel,” Shinra replied. He then turned to Rufus. “Any thoughts on this, son?”

Rufus didn’t move, and when Tifa turned to look at him, she realized that he was glaring at his father, his eyes frozen solid with pale blue. His stare was so sharp and penetrating that she felt compelled to turn away from it.

“How much did they know?” Rufus asked ruthlessly. “Scarlet and Heideggar are both messy. I told you to fire Scarlet months ago. If I ran this company, I would have terminated them both.”

“But you _don’t_ run this company,” the elder Shinra groused.

Rufus’ words to his own father in front of the group had been so caustic that they instantly set Shinra’s shoulders back, his teeth emerging in a scowl beneath his golden mustache as he seethed. New cords of tension developed in the air, pulling tight between the two Shinra men, and Tifa could feel Rufus bristle at her side at his father’s response, and suddenly she felt a small pang of sympathy for him, knowing what it felt like to be in an emotional war with a parent.

“Here’s the deal,” Shinra went on when it was clear that Rufus had nothing further to add in response to that. “Even if their evidence is flimsy, we know that it is enough for them to have an open investigation. Tuesti will not relent in his pursuit to establish himself as the executioner of Wall Street, all in his crusade to position himself and his shameless political ambitions.” Shinra paused, running two fingers across the wrinkles in his forehead, pushing against a band of tension. “We need to be very, very careful from here on out. Suffice it to say that his office will be looking for every excuse to obtain additional information and make more arrests. We cannot allow that to happen.”

Tifa heard Rufus sigh distractedly at her side.

“Tseng, I want you to ensure that Scarlet and Heiddegar’s lips remain sealed,” Shinra went on, earning a curt nod from Tseng. “Brian, you are to scrutinize every transaction that passes through any office in this building with a fine-toothed comb before it is approved to move forward. And those of you in the Vice President’s office are to remain vigilant over the accounts and activities that are conducted under Rufus’ purview. We cannot allow for another single executive in this firm to become marred by such a scandal as has erupted here today.”

There were nods and grunts of assent around the table, but it seemed that President Shinra had said his fill on the matter, pushing up angrily from his seat to depart from the room without another word, his rage following behind him like a trail of flames. At his departure, Rufus swore and pushed away from the table, leaving the conference room in an equally thick cloud of fury, Tseng immediately rising and scurrying being him. The others began to rise to their feet and file out quietly, Reno murmuring and cursing to Rude, who remained silent, Elena’s eyes wide as saucers as she followed behind them.

Tifa got to her feet, and as she stood, her father did too, their eyes meeting. His seemed to be pleading with hers, but Tifa could only feel the trepidation in her gut flourish.

He started to open his mouth, but thought better of it and shook his head, instead turning and leaving the conference room in one long stride, leaving Tifa standing alone in the room, feeling like the entire building was closing in around her, about to crush her beneath the weights of its secrets and lies. 

* * *

  
Later that night, Tifa was so exhausted and wound up tight with dread from the events of the day that she’d simply showered, barely ate anything at all for dinner, and went almost immediately to bed. Aerith wasn’t home yet, working a middle school dance with Biggs, and Tifa was grateful that she would not have to explain what was happening in her life to her best friend, too tired and depleted to rehash the events that had her belly coiled with tension and her throat filled with nausea.

Still, she needed badly to feel some sense of relief from everything that was happening, especially since she knew that she was making herself sick with worry over everything that was happening with her father and Shinra Capitol. Laying in the dark with the television blaring silently at her, Tifa impulsively reached for her earbuds and her phone, and called Cloud.

“Hey,” he greeted her on the second ring.

“Hey, Cloud,” she replied softly to him, burrowing herself deeper under her sheets, the sound of his voice already a balm on her soul. “I’m sorry, are you busy? I know you’re at work.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbly, raising the hairs on her arms. “Not much happening here, Teef. I pretty much stare out the glass at a driveway all night. What’s up?”

“Oh,” she whispered in response. “I just, um… I missed you.”

“I miss you too,” he rejoined instantly, and the words had her bubbling with warmth. “How was your day?”

That question brought the anxiety and the distress back, and Tifa closed her eyes, rolling to one side and clutching the covers.

“Tifa?” he prompted when she remained silent.

“Oh, Cloud,” she breathed. “It was horrible. Absolutely awful. I think… I think my father is in trouble. I think the entire Shinra company is in trouble.”

“Trouble?” he repeated.

Tifa shook her head against her sheets. “Two of the executives were arrested today for insider trading and securities fraud,” she explained quickly. “And my father seemed to know this was coming. He warned me about it that night he came to my apartment.”

“Are you really surprised?” Cloud asked her. “Tifa, these Wall Street firms are all dirty and crooked. You know that. But do you think your father would really be involved in something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Tifa admitted, and the words spilling from her lips made her want to weep. “I - I was approached by a prosecutor. I’m so scared, Cloud. I don’t know what to do, I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. I feel horrible.”

“Hey,” he interrupted her when her breathing became anxiously heavy. “Tifa, calm down. Take a deep breath, okay? Everything’s going to be okay. You’ve done nothing wrong, so you don’t have to worry. Things are gonna happen however they are gonna happen, but you have to take care of yourself first.”

He was right, she knew, but it didn’t soften the blow of the fact that her world was crashing around her. She fought angrily with herself to stifle her sudden sobs, not wanting him to know that she had begun crying.

“Tifa, you okay?” Cloud asked her.

Tifa expelled a tiny sigh, swallowing back another sob and willing herself to relax. “I think so. Thank you, Cloud. You’re right.”

He hummed, and then it grew quiet between them for a while, and Tifa twirled her fingers in the cord of her headset, not wanting to be away from the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Tifa,” he called to her, his voice having dropped with a deep, tenuous edge. “You want me to help you feel better?”

Her heart began to pound, noting something dangerous laced through his words. She curled even deeper into her blankets, reaching for a pillow to hug close to her.

“What do you mean?”

“What are you wearing?”

Her breath caught, realization now firm around her. She squeezed her pillow tight, dropping her face into it as her cheeks began to brighten.

“Purple yoga pants and a white t-shirt,” she finally breathed out her answer.

“Goddamn,” he swore his response, prompting her to smile against her pillow. “How many of those things do you own? They’re so sexy on you. Your ass is perfect for them.”

She exhaled, her hips intuitively beginning to roll. “You like my ass?”

“I love it,” he breathed out his response. 

“Why?”

“Because,” he started, “It’s so round and full. And your hips, too. I think about your ass all of the time. If I was with you right now, I would be squeezing it, or maybe rubbing it or even smacking it.”

Tifa moaned into her pillow, feeling her body flood with heat, the space between her thighs igniting.

“What else?” she found herself gasping.

“I love your legs,” he went on. “So long and shapely, I wish you could wrap them around me right now. When you were sitting in my lap the other day, I almost lost it with them pressed against me like that.”

“Oh?”

“And your breasts,” Cloud continued, his voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re perfect, Tifa. I love the way they fit against your blouses and sweaters, just stretching the material a little bit. I bet nobody can take their eyes off of you at work, and it makes me jealous as fuck.”

“Really?” Tifa repeated, intrigued by this admission, and also titillated by his vulgarity.

“Really,” he repeated. “I want you all to myself.”

“That can be arranged,” she replied, now feeling playfully bold, his words and the softness in his voice throwing her into the mood.

“You know what else I like, Tifa?” Cloud went on. “I love your lips. They’re so soft and full, kissing you drives me crazy. Fuck, I love your whole face. And your long, dark hair. You’re so pretty, Tifa. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She wanted to scream into her pillow, he was working her up so badly. Instead, she squeezed it, pressing her thighs together, the throb between them becoming unbearable.

“I know you’re stressed, Teef,” he said before she could respond. “I’ve felt it in you for months now. If I was with you, I’d take it all away, wind it right out of you.”

“How?” she dared to ask.

“Mmm,” he hummed, sounding delighted at the opportunity to elaborate. “Are you laying down?”

“Yes.”

“I’d get you naked,” he began, “and I’d lay right on top of you and kiss you. And I’d work my way down, Tifa. I would kiss you all over, your face, your neck, your collarbone, your flat tummy… and those breasts. I’d suck your nipples until I made you come just from that.”

“Oh,” Tifa sighed, her hips now grinding.

“I haven’t gotten to the best part,” Cloud rumbled in her ear, his voice like a gently rolling eruption of thunder somewhere far in the distance. “Your pussy, Tifa. If I was there, I would rub you until you soaked my fingers and the bed. Your pussy is so pretty, I still remember staring at it on New Year’s Eve at the hotel, all pink and wet. God, you get so wet for me.”

“Cloud,” Tifa gasped.

“You want to come for me, Tifa?” he asked her softly.

“Yes,” she pleaded, and she rolled to her back, abandoning her pillow as one hand slid beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and into her panties, the other finding her breasts and gently gliding over one nipple.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered.

“I am,” she moaned.

“Are you wet?”

“So wet,”

“Fuck, Tifa. I bet you’re swollen and aching, too. How bad do you want me?”

“Really bad, Cloud,” she whined.

“If I was there,” Cloud continued, “I’d have my mouth right on that sweet pussy. I love going down on you, Tifa. You taste so good, and I love the way you react to my mouth. Your whole body gets tight, and your hips start to grind and you moan so loud, and you _drip_. I almost lost my mind at the way that you leaked all over me and ruined those sheets on New Years’s Eve.”

The pads of two fingers had found her clit, and they began to wind, drawing slow circles over her bud, allaying the ache just a little.

“If I could right now, I would kiss every part of you, and I would lick and suck your clit until you came. You like that, right? My tongue stroking your clit, my mouth wrapped around it, teasing it and tapping it until you shudder, my breath all over you.”

“Cloud,” she whispered again, arching her back and straining for release as she increased the speed of her movements against herself. “I’m so close.”

“Mmm,” he moaned in response. “Maybe I’d add my fingers too. Would you like that, Tifa? Two fingers deep inside of you, pressing against your walls while I suck your sweet, swollen clit until you can’t see straight.”

“Oh,” she cried out, just as her orgasm rocked into her gently, a wave that passed over her and left her trembling. She stilled her hand against her flesh, her underwear now sodden, and let the euphoria slowly drain through her brain as she came down. She slid her hand from her pants and let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you just come, Tifa?” Cloud asked her, his voice somehow even lower.

“Yes,” she breathed in response, realizing that the sound had come out ragged.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy,” Cloud growled. “Goddamnit, I wish I was with you right now so I could cuddle you until you fell asleep.”

 _When the hell did Cloud get so much game_ , Tifa wondered idly.

“Me too,” she said instead.

“You feel a little better?”

“A little,” she replied. “Thank you, Cloud. That was… really hot.”

“Good, Tifa. Now go to sleep. You need to get your rest.”

When they finally wished each other goodnight, the words _I love you_ were hovering dangerously against the tip of her tongue, and Tifa had to do everything in her power to keep them from tumbling out.

* * *

“You look like you’re in a good mood.”

Cloud glanced at Zack as he emerged from his room, finding his best friend looking up from his seat on the couch. “Must be all that sex you’re getting.”

 _If only_ , Cloud thought. “I’m not getting ‘all that sex’, jackass,” he retorted instead.

Zack popped off a laugh, glancing up at him. “Oh, no? The way that Tifa was all over your lap the other day suggests otherwise. Did you remember to steam-wash this couch?”

“Shut up,” Cloud snapped.

“Oh, don’t be so snippy,” Zack went on, flicking through a few channels on the television. “I’m just glad you finally decided to do something about it. It was driving me crazy.”

“I really don’t care, Zack,” Cloud responded, reaching for his jacket by the door.

“Sure,” Zack laughed in reply. “Where are you off to on a Sunday night?”

“I’m going out with Tifa,” he informed him, not really giving a fuck anymore what Zack knew about it. 

“Hot date, huh?” Zack’s eyebrow was devilishly high on his face. “Don’t forget the condoms, Cloud. Kids are expensive.”

Zack was an idiot. “We’re just going to the observatory,” Cloud muttered. “We don’t get much time to hang out since our schedules both suck. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Zack laughed in response as if he didn’t believe this, but Cloud ignored it and shut the door behind him, making his way out of the apartment and across the street to pick up Tifa.

He couldn’t stop the thrill he was feeling at spending time with her again, actually going on a real date with her, one where it was clear between them both that they were no longer just fucking friends, but that they shared mutual attraction and desire for one another, and had now on more than one occasion exchanged the passions of that desire without the boldness of alcohol to spur them on. Cloud only wondered how deep the end of Tifa’s feelings ran, because he knew without a doubt that he was already in love with her, and this fact was burning him up inside.

Their relationship sat at a unique juncture, acknowledged but not really labeled. Tifa seemed terrified of a relationship. And she wanted to take things slow. Cloud really didn’t care about labels, and he didn’t mind waiting for her, either. He just wanted it to be absolutely clear to everyone - especially potential assholes like Rufus Shinra - that Tifa was his.

This possession was difficult to ignore, but Cloud could hardly give a fuck. Tifa was too precious and too important to him, and he loved her too much, and now that he knew she felt the same attraction to him, that they’d confirmed their mutual feelings, goddamn anybody who thought they had a shot with her.

Not only that, but her job - and probably that prick Rufus - was making Tifa’s life hell. He hated how stressed it was making her, how her father pressured her, how the company’s legal troubles were dragging her into its misery. It was draining her happiness right in front of him, and it angered him to see. There were days when he wanted to convince her to quit, wanted to go up to her father and tell him to fuck off. But he did none of these things, instead offering Tifa encouraging words and a listening ear, hoping to shoulder some of her burdens.

Their schedules misaligned badly, and it wasn’t often that he got to see her like this. Instead, they rode their relationship together through their phones, texting each other at all hours of the day, holding conversations that went on late into the night and almost always ended with Tifa climaxing on the other end. Cloud was usually confined to his glass booth at his boring-ass job when they spoke, so he didn’t dare put his hands on himself, though her breathy moans through his headphones made it difficult to resist.

But tonight, he was finally going to see her again, could finally get his hands on her and feel her, real and soft and warm next to him again.

He texted Tifa when he reached her gate, and she soon emerged from her brownstone, her hair tied up high in a ponytail, wearing a black bubble jacket and tight, dark jeans with tan construction boots, all of it making her look super hip and urban and _cute_ , so much so that Cloud couldn’t stop himself from moaning low in his throat when she approached.

“Hi,” she greeted him shyly, and Cloud reacted instantly, leaning forward and kissing her right there on the sidewalk, his arms wrapping around her and holding her to him, so happy to finally be close to her again.

He kept himself under control though, breaking the kiss after a moment, leaving her breathless. She looked up at him with a smile when they broke apart, licking her lips in a way that had him tightening under his jeans even further.

“Wow, someone is happy to see me,” she teased.

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat.

They took the subway into Manhattan, arriving at the One World Observatory, which had opened on the top floor of the new One World Trade Center building that had been erected years after the devastation of the September 11th attacks. Tifa had suggested it for their date, saying she had wanted to stargaze from the tower ever since it had opened.

The plaza surrounding the building, now the tallest in the Western Hemisphere, was vast, interconnecting with the subway systems and the local nightlife of downtown. It was a little after seven in the evening, and the sky was now full dark, the wind bitter with cold when they arrived, Tifa’s arm looped through his and sharing her warmth with him as they rode the elevators up to the top floor of the building. His heart was beating a little faster as he realized how close she was to him, the sugary scents from her hair and her skin driving him mad.

“This is so exciting,” Tifa gushed when they reached the top floor and entered the observatory. “I heard the views are breathtaking.”

Cloud really didn’t care that much, but if it made her happy, it was good enough for him.

They walked inside the observatory, directed by a staff member to a large, open room that was surrounded fully by floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a completely unblemished view of New York and the surrounding world around them. Perhaps because it was late on a Sunday, the observatory was light on guests, and there was currently only one other small family admiring the views. At this time of night, the room was encased in darkness with the exception of a few skylights that provided a cool blue glow to the room to make it safe to navigate. Cloud heard Tifa gasp as soon as they stepped inside, and he followed her to one line of windows across the room.

“Cloud, look,” she pointed up. “The sky!”

Cloud craned his neck back, glancing up at the night sky. In New York, there was so much light pollution that it was difficult to make out any of the celestial beauty from the ground. But at this height, all of the light below was filtered out, and they had a pure, unabashed view of the night sky and its litter of blue and white and purple stars, the moon glowing bright and full above it all.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked him, and Cloud could only nod, fully in agreement. “It reminds me of the stars above Breckenridge. Remember?”

Cloud looked down to find her staring up at him, her eyes wide, her glossy lips spread into a smile. How fucking badly he wanted to kiss that mouth right now.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice suddenly no longer working properly. “I remember.”

She glanced back at the stars, watching them silently for a moment, but Cloud couldn’t tear his eyes away from the perfect profile of her face. After a moment, she turned back to him.

“Cloud?” she whispered.

“Yeah, Teef?”

“Um,” she was fidgeting her fingers together in front of her, a cute habit of hers whenever she was nervous, and Cloud resisted the sudden impulse to bend down to kiss her forehead. “We made our promise under the stars, remember?”

“Of course, Tifa,” he breathed.

“I just…” she looked through the glass again, back up at the black heavens that were stained with glitter. “I just wanted to thank you for fulfilling it. You came for me here in this city at a very scary time in my life.”

Cloud felt confused by this profession, not really thinking he’d done much of anything for her since he’d moved to New York. Tifa was independent, she was smart and resourceful, and she took on bigger challenges than he could ever face. What the fuck was she even talking about?

“But Tifa, I d-“

“Shhh, Cloud,” she whispered, leaning up and pressing her fingers against his lips. “You’ve been there for me since the moment I ran into you on the train that night. I couldn’t have made it through these last few months without you. You… you mean everything to me.”

She lowered her finger, but the damage had been done. Her words and her touch had set something off inside of him, exploding like a bomb, and he looked around quickly to gauge that the family had left and that they were alone in the observatory. Without warning, he was crowding her against the glass, his body pressed to hers, one hand above her head, the other reaching for her cheek.

“Tifa,” he crooned, “You mean everything to me, too.”

Without waiting for her response, he slotted his mouth over hers, his tongue swiping at her lips and prodding at their seam. Her reaction was instant, her body coming alive as her tongue darted out to greet his and her arms looped around his neck. He nipped at her gently, pulling a moan out of her, and then her leg was lifting again, rising to wrap around his waist.

This time, though, they were wearing too many layers of thick fabric for any sort of grinding, but the way that her hips twirled under him was driving him crazy with desperation to do _something_. Unable to think, Cloud dropped his hand from her face down to her waist, pushing her coat up and out of the way to find the button of her jeans, twisting it open deftly and then sliding her zipper down, never breaking their kiss.

“Cloud?” she questioned messily into his mouth.

“Shhh,” it was his turn to silence her, dropping his hand from the glass to press a finger to her lips. His hand that had opened her pants was now sliding beneath her panties, a smooth glide that had her gasping when his fingers found her slick heat.

“Fuck,” he growled at her, his finger still pressed to her lips. “You’re so fucking wet, Tifa.”

The moan that she released came out sounding more like a whine, and it made Cloud mad with lust. He dipped his fingers gently against her hot, tight opening, drenching his fingers as much as possible before he dragged two of them firmly along the lines of her folds until they found her clit, hard and swollen and waiting for him.

“Oh,” she cried out, and Cloud slipped his finger past her lips and into her mouth, mystified when she gently began to suck.

He worked his fingers over her nub in slow circles, and Tifa was instantly writhing beneath him, her ponytail sliding against the glass with her movements, her dark hair fanning out around her. Cloud watched her face the entire time, thrilled by the ways that her face contorted in pleasure, and he rubbed her more firmly, her moans beginning to escalate.

_God, please don’t let anybody fucking walk in here._

Her back was arched and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes now squeezed shut as her gasps and whimpers slid out around his finger. Gently, he pinched her clit between his two fingers, alternating his pressure as he began to rotate and twist her flesh, still rubbing tenderly. Her head snapped back against the glass at the sensation, a wild little cry escaping her throat.

“Oh, god, Cloud, yes, please. That’s so fucking good. Please.”

Goddamnit, Tifa never swore, and he just about came in his own pants at the utterance of it. He growled in response, rubbing and tugging her a little faster.

“You like that?” he asked her in a low rumble, pressing his finger against her tongue. 

“I love it,” she keened breathlessly, rocking her hips up to his hand. “Oh, Cloud, baby, I’m sooo close.”

Feeling the vibrations of her words whispered around his finger in her mouth was sending him to his grave.

“Good,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Come for me, Teef.”

His words must have been enough, because she obeyed immediately, arching her back and slamming both palms back on the glass behind her, a wild, messy sob erupting from her throat. He stopped moving his fingers against her skin, instead tipping his forehead against hers as she whined and rode out her climax. After a moment, she lowered her leg and brought her arms back around him, anchoring herself to him.

“Oh, my god, Cloud,” she whispered. “That was…. Oh, god.”

Cloud withdrew his hand from her jeans, his fingers sticky and drenched, and he almost never wanted to wash his hands again.

“Mmm,” he hummed against her, pulling her close to him. “You’re good at this.”

He heard a throat clear behind them, and they both turned to find that the attendant, a middle-aged woman, had returned to the observatory and was looking at them expectantly.

“We are closing in fifteen minutes,” she informed them brusquely.

Cloud nodded, and when she finally disappeared, he turned back to Tifa, their eyes meeting for a moment before they both broke out into rich, colorful laughter, the happiest Cloud could remember being for a long, long time.

* * *

It was just under two weeks later, a Monday night when Cloud had the day off from work, sitting in front of his laptop on his bed and staring at the words on the screen.

Just over seven thousand words accumulated so far, the tab on the bottom of his word processor informed him. It wasn’t terrible, but for as long as he’d been working this fucking story, he would have liked to see an extra zero on the end of that number.

He was about to give up for the night when his phone rang at his hip, and he picked it up, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar number on the display.

 _Colorado_ , he thought, staring at the area code, something pricking at his brain and making his heart rise a little in his chest.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Cloud Strife?” It was a woman’s voice, twinged with the Western accent, and definitely older.

“Yes,” he answered carefully. “Who’s calling?”

“Oh,” the woman sighed heavily. “This is Linda Peterson. I live down the street from your mother, Claudia.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and Cloud waited, his heart beginning to pound as he wondered why the fuck one of his mom’s friends was calling him.

“Yeah?” he finally prompted.

“Oh, Cloud, I’m so sorry to have to call you like this, but something terrible has just happened,” Linda exclaimed into the phone in a long rush. “Your mother had a massive heart attack a couple of hours ago. Luckily, she was at my house to watch the awards show when it happened. Otherwise, I don’t know if…”

“Is she alright?” Cloud cut her off with a shout, now standing at his feet, his heart beating so fast it was nearly out of his chest, his head suddenly pounding with fear.

“She was transported to the hospital, but she’s been kept in a coma for a few hours. I’m still here,” Linda explained. “They’re performing surgery to remove a blockage. She’ll probably be kept here for days until they know exactly why this happened and to make sure that she is okay. I wanted to call you and let you know, because she needs you, Cloud. You’re her only family.”

Cloud didn’t need Linda Fucking Peterson to inform him of that fact. He was getting viciously angry, but he bit back the urge to snap. “I’m getting the first flight that I can,” he informed her, and he didn’t wait for Linda to respond before he hung up.

He went back to his laptop and navigated to a travel website, the anger and the fear and desperation sending him up in flames. In all of the fucked up, unimaginable shit that could have occurred to wreak havoc in his life, his mother having a fucking heart attack had not been on his list of things to expect.

After booking the next available flight to Denver, which was leaving at six in the morning, Cloud sent a text to his supervisor and then began to pace his room, trying to decide his next course of action. He needed to pack, and tell Zack, and - 

Tifa. He needed to tell Tifa. He glanced at his phone, but gave up, instead deciding that he needed to speak to her in person. He was so frenzied and upset, needed to see her, and needed the comfort of her embrace more than anything at that moment.

He grabbed his jacket and left the apartment, his heart tearing through his chest as he neared the curb to cross the street, adrenaline careening out of control in his blood as his anxiety spiked and his dopamine levels plummeted. All he could think about was his mother, beautiful and sweet, collapsing to the floor with her hand clutched to her chest. It made him see red.

His thoughts were a violent whirlwind as he waited for traffic to pass before he crossed the street. But just before he did, he looked up to notice some activity occurring across the street in front of Tifa’s brownstone.

Squinting in the darkness, Cloud remained rooted in place as he watched. A man dressed in white with a slate-gray wool coat was standing at the base of the steps in front of her building, leaning casually against the railing, golden hair shimmering so brightly under the streetlamp that Cloud could make its shine out from where he stood.

Rufus Fucking Shinra, he realized, his anger transforming into something so dark and threatening and dangerous, it boiled his insides and twisted his throat into knots.

Tifa was standing at the top of the steps in the doorway, the light from the hallway behind her glowing angelically around her. She had her hands on her hips, her hair done up into a ponytail, and although it was difficult for him to see in the darkness, it seemed that she was shaking her head.

Cloud’s mind was suddenly at war with itself, half of him ready to cross the street and bash Rufus’ head in, the other half wanting to retreat. But all he could manage to do was stare, watching Rufus’ hands dance in the air while Tifa continued to shake her head. Eventually, she backed away into the threshold, slamming the door, and even from across the street Cloud could hear the way that Rufus laughed before he turned with his hands in his pockets to climb into the back of a black, stretch limousine that was parked against the curb.

Watching the car pull away, Cloud wondered what the fuck had just happened. Was that motherfucker stalking her? He was going to _kill_ him.

He shook his head, his emotions now swirling out of control. He stared up at Tifa’s building, not wanting to confront whatever the fuck just happened, not when his goddamn mother was in a hospital on the other side of the country _dying_.

Cloud turned back to his apartment in resignation, feeling like the depression and the anger and the anxiety would eat him alive, and he decided that he would just text Tifa later and let her know that he had to leave.

_Goddamnit._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! 💜💫


	7. Star Crossed and Blood Rushed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! We have an update. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thanks again to spaceodementia for always beta'ing and being supportive, and to everyone who is following this story and has been so kind.

Last Train to Brooklyn

* * *

Chapter Seven 

Star Crossed and Blood Rushed

“The Captain has turned the fasten seatbelt sign back on. Please return to your seats and prepare for landing.”

Cloud awoke with a start, feeling a stiff pain in the side of his neck from where he’d laid it against the window of the flight to Denver he was aboard. Overhead lights flickered and dimmed, and Cloud blinked a few times before sitting up and rolling his shoulder to shake away the aches that this poor, cramped sitting position had inspired in him.

Yawning, he lifted the shade above the window to look out, hearing the roar of the 747’s engines tear through the sky as the aircraft began to tip into a descent toward the ground. The sky was bright with early morning sunlight; although his flight had left New York at six that morning, with the two hour time difference, it was only a little after eight here in Colorado. Below, Cloud could see the first illustrations of the world below emerge from between the pockets of clouds, nearly everything coated in white.

Cloud looked down at his leather motorcycle jacket and sighed. There was no way he was dressed warmly enough for late-January Colorado weather.

Memories of events transpired began to return to him as he tossed himself from the sleep he’d managed to steal during the five-hour flight, spiking his anxiety and the tiny jolts of terror that had been running up his arms and through his heart since he’d packed his carryon late the night before in preparation to leave for Colorado. His mother, in a coma in the hospital, after suffering a major heart attack. His mother’s friend, Linda, unable to tell him much about her condition, other than the fact that the doctors needed to perform what they hoped would be a life-saving procedure.

Cloud thought back to his mother’s wheezy breathing on the phone the last few times they’d talked, of the way she seemed to cough and strain whenever they spoke, and he wondered if he hadn’t missed something all along, a warning sign that had been right there in his face.

 _And just what the fuck would you have been able to do about it_? He found himself angrily asking himself. He had only been home maybe two or three times in the last six years since he’d been deployed and now living in New York. He’d been so goddamn eager to get out of Breckenridge that he’d let years go by where they didn’t see each other or do much more besides communicating via phone.

And now, here he was, finally showing up when it was far too little, far too late.

As the jet began to taxi along the runway, the lights of Denver International Airport twinkling in the distance beyond the window beside him, Cloud rubbed his temples, the anxiety thick around him. None of his present troubles were helped by things that were happening back in New York. Just when he’d thought he’d made progress in his relationship with Tifa, that they’d finally come tor reconcile their mutual feelings and that they’d somehow figured out a way forward together, he’d been railroaded not only by his mother’s sudden illness, but by that piece of fucking garbage, Rufus Shinra.

Cloud still couldn’t clear the image of Rufus standing at the foot of Tifa’s steps in front of her brownstone out of his head, watching him lean casually against the banister while Tifa stood shadowed in the doorway of her apartment, her hands on her hips. And he couldn’t shake the sound of Rufus’ laughter ringing out into the night air once Tifa’d slammed the door and he turned away, a rich, deeply amused sound that seemed to suggest everything was just a game to him.

And then there was the matter of Tifa’s father and the entire Shinra company, a situation that didn’t seem like it was improving and was certainly only helping to create further challenges and barriers between their relationship. As much as he and Tifa seemed to be finding their way to one another, there was no denying that they were stuck behind a line that she seemed terrified to cross because of all of the stresses in her life that were placed there primarily by her father and his allegiance to a corporation full of bloodsuckers.

What kind of father put his only daughter through this kind of hell, anyway?

Cloud didn’t understand why things had to be so intolerably complicated. He liked Tifa. She liked him too, or so she said, it certainly seemed that way anytime he had his hands or his mouth on her. Why couldn’t they just be together? Why did they have to tiptoe across these lines to placate everyone around them?

Why couldn’t they just be happy?

Grabbing his carryon from the overhead bin, Cloud realized that maybe things would never be as simple or straightforward as he would like them to be. He also realized that, right now, he couldn’t worry about any of those things anymore, not while his mother was probably on her deathbed.

Once he’d deplaned and made it outside the airport to find a rideshare to Breckenridge, Cloud realized how truly cold it was here, gentle flurries of snow drifting at odd intervals in the gusts of wind around him. It had been cold in New York at this time of year, for sure, but this was a different sort of frostiness. The winter here was enveloping and bright, surrounded by the sunlight that was high in the sky above and contrasted by purple and silver mountaintops and wide stretches of white snowfalls, rather than the dark concrete and harsh clouds and smogs of the city. 

Cloud found a rideshare to his hometown of Breckenridge, a ride that was just a little under two hours from the airport. Staring silently out of the backseat of the vehicle, watching the landscape pass by with the Rockies towering above in the distance, Cloud remembered how truly different Colorado was from New York. In New York, everything and everyone had been cramped and stacked on top of each other. Just about anything Cloud needed in the city was within walking distance. But here in the West, it could be an hour’s drive just to find a grocery store.

Still wading in depressive exhaustion, Cloud closed his eyes and tried to recapture some of the sleep that his early morning flight had interrupted, but found it impossible to fall into. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts, opening Tifa’s and staring at her name for a long moment and his last message to her.

He had finally texted her to let her know he was leaving that morning just before he’d boarded his plane. He was too angry at the sight of Rufus outside of her apartment to text her last night and too worked up in his feelings over his mother, and that morning he had been in too much of a rush to get to the airport to catch his flight on time. But now, he stared at his screen, a new wave of guilt and longing rushing over him as he stared at the last message sitting there alone.

 **_Cloud:_ ** _Hey. I have to go to Colorado for a few days. I’ll call you later._

She still hadn’t responded, and Cloud tucked his phone away, turning back to the window and watching the fading hues of the western landscape pass by, a lump in his throat and a weight square on the center of his chest. As his rideshare driver carefully rounded an exit, the looming green sign above warning their arrival at Breckenridge in less than a dozen miles, Cloud dug into his messenger bag and pulled out his dark blue journal, staring at its cover for a brief moment before running his fingers across its worn leather case and then thumbing through its pages to where he’d last bookmarked it.

His journal was almost full, he realized, just a few scant remaining pages for him to fill before he would have to purchase a new one. He opened the page and stared down at the last poem he’d written to Tifa, the one that he had felt somewhat satisfied with and hadn’t felt the need to strikethrough a thousand times with his pen. He narrowed his eyes, reading and rereading his own words back up at him, wondering if his thoughts and feelings and sentiments that were scrawled across the page made any sense and if he could ever express them to her the way he wanted to, especially with everything in his life falling apart around him the way that it was right now.

He sighed, pulling the page out and folding it, stuffing it into his wallet for safekeeping until he could hopefully one day find the strength to give it to her. He closed the journal and shoved it back into his bag just as his ride pulled up in front of his childhood home. Cloud stared up at the cottage, having not seen in it since before his last tour overseas, just over two years ago. 

Breckenridge was such a contrast to New York. Even the air smelled differently, fresh and sharp, full of the scents of the trees and the mountains that bordered everything. In the distance, the Rockies loomed over the village, magenta and calm, their peaks capped with snowy white. Cloud felt a sense of tranquility fall over him that he had not experienced in many weeks as his boots greeted the snow that rimmed the sidewalk in front of his house.

The sun painfully bright in his eyes, Cloud looked to his right to see Tifa’s old home, the driveway filled with unrecognizable cars. Just the sight of her house, where so many years ago she had lived right beside him, sometimes waving to him from her backyard or her window, filled him with a miserable ache at the distance that now lived between them. She still hadn’t responded to his text, and all it did was build his anxiety to new levels, leaving him longing for the comfort of contact with her.

He found the key to his house stashed beneath a potted plant, entering and rummaging through his mother’s kitchen for her car keys. Everything in the house was peaceful and still, left in the same places they had been since his mother had last been here. Thinking again about her heart giving out and sending her into collapse, Cloud winced and swiped her car keys from the counter, leaving the house with his head shaking and his heart hurting.

Cloud took his mother’s blue sedan and drove it through Breckenridge’s quiet roads, reacquainting himself with the sleepy streets that cut through the picturesque mountain town. He passed the park in the center of town, the one where he and Tifa used to stargaze, the one where they had made their promise before she had left his life for a big, loud city on the other side of the country.

_Do you promise?_

_But you’re the one who’s leaving._

_Promise me!_

He pushed Tifa out of his brain and drove to the center of town, finding the general hospital that loomed in its downtown center. After paying for parking, Cloud made his way inside and approached the front desk, giving the nurse his mother’s name.

Frustratingly, he was forced to wait in a small lobby on the cardiac wing once he was given his mother’s room assignment, promised that a doctor would come to speak with him shortly. Linda Peterson had already left, not being permitted to linger as she was not family. The minutes stretched by like hours as he sat and waited, watching nurses pass by, wheeling patients to and fro. He checked his phone often, frowning when he realized that his service was poor in this part of the mountains, and shook his head with a severe grumble, his nerves so grated he almost couldn’t sit still.

“Mr. Strife?”

Cloud looked up to find a pleasant-faced doctor with salt and peppered ash-brown hair and mustache, tall and staring down at him through wire-framed glasses. Cloud got to his feet.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Dr. Richard Donovan,” the doctor explained, offering a hand for Cloud to shake. “I am in charge of your mother, Claudia’s, care. I’d like to give you some information on her condition before I permit you to see her.”

Cloud nodded slowly, feeling his heart begin to race, and Dr. Donovan gestured back to the chairs where Cloud had been sitting, finding one of his own to sit in.

“Mr. Strife,” Donovan began, but Cloud shook his head, finding that incredibly annoying.

“Cloud is fine,” he interjected.

“Okay, Cloud,” Donovan conceded. “Were you aware that your mother was suffering from congestive heart failure?”

“No,” Cloud admitted slowly, horrified by the sound of that.

The doctor nodded. “According to her primary care physician, she had been diagnosed a year ago. She shared with me some concerns that your mother had been irregular with her checkups and her medication. This is a very serious disease, Cloud.”

Cloud said nothing, only staring, his own heart about to give out.

“Congestive heart failure occurs when the heart cannot adequately pump blood throughout the system. This may occur for a number of reasons, but typical symptoms are shortness of breath and a reduced ability for physical expenditure. According to your mother’s physician, your mother had a relatively severe case that could have benefited from a pacemaker. However, your mother declined that procedure.”

“Why?” Cloud asked, hating himself for not being present for any of this, for not even being aware his mother had been dealing with this for the past year. He was a shitty son.

“I can’t be too sure,” Donovan offered, “But I do know that your mother seemed to be a bit stubborn about the routine associated with this disease. At any rate, she suffered from a heart attack and was transported here for treatment. I found a significant blockage in her arteries, so we made the decision to induce a coma. Last night, I performed the procedure to alleviate the blockage, implanting stents. After another day or so of healing, we will install the pacemaker. If all goes well, she should only need to remain here another week. But she must be vigilant about her condition moving forward.”

Cloud dropped his head in his hands.

“I realize that she is relatively young,” Donovan continued, “But women over forty carry certain risk factors for heart disease. It is imperative that she maintains a certain regimen and lifestyle change following this.”

Cloud thought about his mother’s rich cooking, shaking his head.

“Would you like to see her, now?” Donovan asked.

Cloud nodded, feeling his heart race against his chest as he followed Donovan through the halls of the cardiac wing, eventually coming to a stop at his mother’s room. The doctor opened the door and allowed Cloud to step in, finding the room dim with the exception of the sunlight that streamed in from the window above.

His mother lay in the hospital bed, the sheets pulled up to her chest, an IV in her arm and a heart monitor beeping quietly at her side. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders, spilling into her forehead and making her appear angelic.

“We will keep her sedated for at least the next couple of days,” Donovan said quietly at Cloud’s side. “But you may visit with her. Although she is not awake, your presence will certainly be soothing for her, I believe.”

With that, the doctor offered Cloud a conciliatory nod before he left him alone in the room with his mother. Cloud pulled one of the errant chairs up next to the gurney, at once reaching for his mother’s hand and enveloping it in his.

Her skin was so warm and soft, it sent an instant throb into the center of his chest. He rubbed her flesh and bowed his head, choking as he felt tears begin to burn the corners of his eyes. He lowered his head into her lap, shaking it with pure, absolute misery.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her faintly. “I’m so sorry that I let you down.”

He squeezed his mother’s hand, wishing that she would squeeze back, wishing that she would wake up and look him in the eyes and tell him that everything would be okay.

But that wasn’t going to happen, and Cloud cursed himself for not being there for her, for letting months stretch by where they didn’t even talk, completely unaware of how bad things had become.

He hated this, but most of all, he hated himself.

* * *

It was dawn when Tifa awoke from a miserable, restlessly torn sleep, one where she had spent most of the night tossing and turning with frustration, her thoughts mired between the stress of her job and her father and Rufus, who had shown up at her apartment unannounced the evening before with two tickets to a Broadway show in hand, waving them about and expecting her to drop everything and join him.

She had been furious; his arrogance was unbelievable. How dare he just show up and assume that she would entertain his courtship? He had been so haughty, standing at the bottom of her steps with twin, white roses in hand, the tickets slipped between his fingers in a dare, his blue eyes dazzling under the moonlight like twin beacons of oppressive firelight, shining up at her with malicious intent. If she’d had anything available in hand to throw at him, she would have pelted him from where she stood in the threshold.

Instead, she told him in the simplest terms that she was not interested in going anywhere with him, and even as he continued to plead, leveling his smirk dangerously at her, Tifa refused, eventually slamming the door in his face.

Her night had been awful from that point forward, and now she was rising for work, having slept terribly and feeling the waves of anxiety build as she thought about Shinra and her father and seeing Rufus in the office again. Miserable, Tifa reached for her phone and opened Cloud’s contact, her eyes widening when she found the missed text from early that morning.

 **_Cloud:_ ** _Hey. I have to go to Colorado for a few days. I’ll call you later._

Frowning, Tifa instantly texted him back.

 **_Tifa:_ ** _What happened? Call me_

She stared at the phone, and when he didn’t immediately text back, she impulsively called him. But his phone rang once and then went straight to voicemail, and Tifa wondered if he might be in the air.

Cloud suddenly having to fly back home did not sit well with her at all, and new stabs of panic were infiltrating her. Her breathing becoming labored, Tifa kicked out of bed and left her room, pushing her way into the hallway just as Aerith was leaving the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head.

“Aerith,” Tifa stopped her. “Can you call Zack?”

Aerith paused, holding the towel that covered her nakedness a little tighter around her, frowning slightly. “Um, what for, Tifa? It’s early in the morning.”

“I need to find Cloud,” Tifa responded immediately. “He texted me to say he was going to Colorado, but I don’t know why and now he’s not answering his phone.”

Aerith’s features relaxed, and she nodded slightly, heading down the hall toward her room. “Okay, let me just get dressed.”

Tifa made her way into the living room, finding a seat on the couch, running her hands across the tops of her thighs. It was at that moment that she resolved that she was not going to work today. Her nerves were so badly flared, and the thought of having to face Rufus or Tseng or even her father was too much to handle.

Eventually, Aerith emerged, wearing a pink dress for work, her hair still slightly damp and uncombed. Her phone was in her hand, but before she did anything, she sat beside Tifa on the couch and instantly wrapped her arms around her.

“Tifa, please calm down,” she whispered quietly in her hair. “You are so upset, it’s radiating off of you. Everything is going to be okay. Please.”

Tifa was now crying, though, tears escaping as the drama of the last few weeks exploded out of her. 

“I’m calling Zack right now,” Aerith said, her own voice taking on a slight edge of terror.

Tifa nodded, wiping her cheeks as Aerith placed her phone on speaker and dialed Zack. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey, babe,” Zack’s voice sounded groggy and thick. “Not expecting to hear from you this early.”

“Zack,” Aerith cut in. “I’m here with Tifa. What is going on with Cloud? Tifa said he had to leave for Colorado.”

Zack groaned, rustling sounds on the other end. “Yeah,” he responded. “His mother had a heart attack. His flight left a little while ago.”

“Oh, my god,” Tifa cried at Aerith’s side.

Zack was silent.

“Okay, Zack. Thanks. I’ll call you later.” She disconnected the call, opening her mouth to say something, but already Tifa was at her feet with the intention of going to her room to get ready for the day.

“Tifa?” Aerith called, rising to stand.

“I’m going to Breckenridge,” Tifa resolved, her voice shaking as the words spilled from her lips.

“What about work?” Aerith cautiously asked.

“I don’t care about Shinra or my father. I need to make sure that Cloud is okay. He’s the only thing that matters, Aerith.” Suddenly, Tifa was becoming hysterical, her emotions now running wild and careless, everything pent up inside of her finally bursting fully free. “I have been letting everyone run my life and I am miserable, and now the man that I love more than my own heart needs me to be there for him like he’s always there for me.” 

Aerith stared, for once at a loss for words, and as Tifa began to shake her head, she ran up to her and wrapped her arms around her again.

“I understand, Tifa,” she assured her softly. “Anything you need from me, just let me know. Zack and I have your back.”

“I’m not telling my father,” Tifa insisted. “If he shows up here - I know that he will - please do not tell him where I went. Just tell him that you don’t know where I am. I can’t have him coming after me.”

“I promise,” Aerith vowed.

Tifa gave her friend another hug and then retreated to her room, opening her laptop to scour for flights to Denver. She found one that was departing at three that afternoon, giving her enough time to shower and pack and make her way through the chaos of the airport.

The entire time she prepared, catching a taxi to JFK, her heart was centered in her throat, beating wickedly. She was certain that she would not survive the panic attack that was curling through her system, igniting every nerve ending and filling her with nausea. As she pushed her way through the crowds at the airport, her carryon rolling behind her, she thought over and over again about Cloud leaving for Breckenridge, probably terrified and feeling all alone.

Already, her father had rung her half a dozen times, and she’d ignored every last one of his calls. She hadn’t even bothered to call out sick for work, and he was probably furious that she hadn’t shown up, likely embarrassed by her behavior and probably more worried about himself than about her.

But she didn’t care, not even a little bit. She was done with the puppeteering he was doing over her life, finished completely with his machinations and his control. Maybe she would never have the relationship with her father that she wanted, but she could no longer pretend that obeying his every wish was going to make things better between them, that things would ever be the way that they had been before her mother died.

Hours passed, and Tifa found herself unable to even sleep on the five-hour flight to Colorado, her nerves so worked up and her feelings so raw. As soon as her plane touched down, she turned her phone back on to find that she had four more missed calls from her father, and that Cloud had not responded yet to her texts. Thinking of him, her anxiety just increased, leaving her feeling like she was too late or had done something wrong.

Tifa had not been back to Colorado since she’d moved ten years ago, and instantly she was awestruck by the fresh, clean scent of the air, so different from the blends of odors that permeated the air in New York. The air in the mountains up here was thin, leaving her to inhale deeply as she looked around, waiting for a rideshare to pick her up. The sky was rimmed by the Rocky Mountains, a pale lavender that was snow-capped and bright against the blue sky. All of it brought back memories that were buried so far in the past, memories of her family when it was still whole, of her mother teaching her to play the piano and of her father coming home from work with a smile on his face, of her friends and her school and of the blond-haired boy who lived next door and always seemed to be there for her when she needed him.

Tifa watched the scenery pass by on the ride to Breckenridge, the sky only just beginning to darken with the winter’s evening hours approaching. She thought of Cloud and his mother, a wonderfully sweet woman who did not deserve to be in any sort of pain like she was now. Tifa despaired at the thought that she could die, never wanting Cloud to experience that feeling, still feeling the gaping black hole in the center of her heart at her own mother’s death a decade ago.

She realized as her ride neared Breckenridge that she had so impulsively made the decision to fly out here that she had not even bothered to consider accommodations for the night. When the driver asked her where she was headed in town, Tifa turned away from the window and thought for a moment.

“The city hospital, please,” she decided. She would figure things out once she found Cloud.

Her driver dropped her off at the hospital, and Tifa pulled at her peacoat, realizing that somehow, it was even colder here than it had been in New York. Pulling her carryon behind her, she made her way toward the hospital, her dread increasing with every step she took.

Tifa hated hospitals. They reminded her of the day she’d woken suddenly inside of one, tubes threaded into her arms as she blinked and looked around, finding her father sitting at her side with his head in his hands. When she had opened her eyes, he looked up at her, shaking his head at once, his eyes red and tear-rimmed. The feeling of panic and confusion that had risen inside of her was one that Tifa would never, ever forget, the horrified look in her father’s eyes when he reached for her hand, moments away from unloading the ugliest and most devastating news she would ever receive.

At that miserable thought, Tifa’s phone rang again in her pocket. She retrieved it, her lips pulling into a frown when she saw the word **_Dad_ ** scroll across the screen.

Tifa knew that she would not be able to avoid him forever. Eventually, he would lose his wits and likely send the police after her if she did not offer him some sort of explanation. 

It was time to stop being a coward and to stand up for herself. She was a grown woman.

Standing outside of the hospital’s sliding glass doors, Tifa brought her phone to her ear.

“Dad,” she answered carefully.

“Tifa!” her father’s voice spilled into the receiver in a black rage, roughed over with frustration and anger. “Where are you? I have been trying to reach you all day. Why didn’t you show up to work today?”

 _He didn’t even bother to ask me if I am alright_ , Tifa realized sadly.

“I had to take care of something personal,” she answered, not wanting to let him know that she’d followed Cloud to Colorado, fearful that he might come after her or try to track her down. “But I have decided not to return to Shinra Capitol.”

“Excuse me?” Brian demanded nastily into her ear.

“I am quitting,” Tifa responded, keeping her tone measured but firm and resolute. “I cannot work for that company any longer. I will email my resignation to Human Resources tomorrow.”

“This is absurd,” Brian huffed. “Tifa, I do not know what has gotten into you, but you will not embarrass me this way. I forbid it.”

“I don’t care,” Tifa shot back, her throat now choked by oncoming tears, her voice growing shrill as the despair built inside of her, months in the making. “I won’t let you control my life any longer, Dad. I never wanted to work for Shinra. I hate it. And I hate Rufus. He is awful, and I can’t believe you would try to push me to date him. He makes me feel sick.”

“Tifa,” her father growled. “Surely, you cannot be serious. This is an opportunity that so many young people with your education and background would kill for. And Rufus is a good man who can take care of you, who is worthy of you. Maybe he is a bit of an ego, any successful man is likely to be, but you need to look beyond such superficial flaws to see the real value here. Honestly, I think you are still a child. You cannot be counted on to make decisions by yourself.”

“I hate you,” Tifa cried into the phone, unable to stop herself. “Ever since mom died, you have been terrible to me. You were never around, and now you are trying to control my life, trying to make me do things I don’t want, forcing me into a career with a company with shady business practices and into a relationship with a man who treats me like an object. I am over it!”

Her words were thunderclaps, and the sobs that followed were broken and ragged, her cheeks instantly stained by tears. Her father was silent for a long moment, and then she heard him draw in a breath and sigh.

“Tifa,” he began carefully. “Listen, I -“

“Don’t call me again,” she warned, disconnecting the call and dropping her phone angrily into her pocket, furiously wiping the tears from her face as she gasped and tried desperately to calm her breathing.

She steadied herself along the side of the building for a long moment, trying to gather herself into some level of coherency. Her father’s audacity had been chilling, but her own words in response to him had blistered out of her in a way that left her stunned, and she knew that there was no way to take the words back. She suddenly felt very, very alone, terrified at the prospect that maybe she had actually lost two parents.

Despaired, Tifa thought about Cloud, likely sitting at his own mother’s side as fresh tragedies unfolded around them. She shook her head, wondering how things could possibly get any worse and if either of them would ever catch a break.

She made her way inside the hospital just as the sky had grown full dark. Of course, Claudia was not permitted any visitors other than family, currently being held in sedation and under strict monitoring. But a nurse soon confirmed that her son was there, and obliged when Tifa asked if she would find him and tell him she was waiting for him.

Cloud hadn’t answered any of her texts since she left New York, and it left her with a new feeling of anxiety and hopelessness, unsure why he might not be responding.

She sat in the waiting room on the main floor of the hospital for a long time, leaned over her knees with her head in her hands as she poured over the last few hours, her conversation with her father the explosion that peaked it all. She was biting back the urge to vomit when she heard a familiar voice above her.

“Teef?”

Tifa looked up, finding Cloud standing above her. He was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, his jacket slung over his arm. His eyes were red as if he had been crying, and his face seemed tired and shorn. But otherwise, he was as beautiful as she remembered, his blue eyes bright and vivid as he stared down at her.

“Cloud,” she responded, pushing instantly to her feet. “Zack told me what happened. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. I was so worried about you.”

She saw something flicker in his gaze, his eyes instantly growing soft as he stepped closer to her, taking her hands in his. “My service is shit here. I’m sorry I missed your calls. I can’t believe you came for me, Tifa.”

“I couldn’t leave you alone, Cloud,” Tifa answered, gently squeezing his hands back. “I was so scared. Is your mom okay? What happened?”

Cloud shook his head, stepping closer to her until their foreheads were touching. The gesture was so needful that Tifa found herself dropping his hands and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in close for an embrace, rubbing his back as she felt him shudder, and he returned it, hugging her tight.

“Tifa, my mom has heart failure,” Cloud responded into her hair, squeezing her body as if she were his lifeline. “And she never told me, and she hasn’t been taking care of herself. That’s why she had a heart attack.” Cloud squeezed Tifa again, and she rubbed his back even more, trying to coax his misery away. 

“Oh, Cloud, I’m so sorry,” Tifa whispered against his chest. “Is she going to be okay?”

Cloud shook his head, sighing against her hair before he backed up a little. “I don’t know. Tifa, she’s so young. I haven’t been there for her much at all lately. I had no idea any of this was happening, I’ve been so caught up in my own shit.”

“Don’t say that, Cloud,” she whispered, running her fingers along the side of his cheek and brushing a wisp of his golden hair out of his eyes. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop this.”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, looking down, his pale lashes so beautifully long around the rim of those blue eyes that it made her heart ache with longing.

“Can I see her?”

Cloud shook his head. “She can’t really have visitors for a while. They have to perform a couple more procedures before they wake her up. I was actually getting ready to head home. There’s not much I can do sitting here until her next surgery.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, and Tifa just watched him, her heart picking up speed again.

“Uh, you staying at a hotel or something?” Cloud asked her after a beat.

“I hadn’t booked anything yet,” she replied quietly.

“You can stay with me,” he offered, and Tifa looked down to find that he had taken her hands in his again. “Please, Tifa. Stay with me.”

Breathlessly, Tifa nodded. “Okay.”

Wordlessly, they left the hospital together, Cloud pulling on his jacket and leading her to his mother’s blue car in the lot. There were no words spoken between them as he drove through the darkness, only the misery of his mother’s illness and the sad reality of the state of Tifa’s relationship with her father looming in the air above. But all Tifa could think about was how his arms had felt wrapped around her moments ago, settling the violence that thrived inside of her, and all she wanted was to live in his embrace.

Cloud had stopped at a traffic light when Tifa turned to her right, spotting a small expanse of snowy fields bordered by bright yellow aspens. Something pulling at her memory, Tifa turned to Cloud and tapped his arm gently to get his attention.

“Cloud,” she said to him softly. “Look, it’s the park.”

Cloud followed her line of sight. The park was in the center of town, the one where she and Cloud had spent so many nights stargazing, him listening to her as she shared her hopes and dreams with him. It was the one where he had promised to save her from a city that had left her feeling like she had lost a part of herself.

“Can we stop?” she asked him, and he nodded, pulling over.

He parked on the street, and Tifa quickly got out of the car, threading her arm through Cloud’s when he caught up to her. The night air was even colder than when she’d first arrived in town, but Cloud was warm and firm by her side, and suddenly all she could think about was being pressed beneath him under a hill of blankets, nothing but their skin between them.

They walked through the cobblestone paths, eventually emerging into a clearing that was bordered by trees. They found a bench, and Tifa looked up when they sat, finding the sky above littered with bright white stars. It was a sight that she had not seen the likes of in ten years, the sky above New York so filtered with artificial light.

“It’s beautiful, Cloud,” she whispered to him, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in close and holding her tight as he nodded in agreement. He pressed a kiss to her hair, sending a shiver through her entire body.

“Tifa,” he began softly. “I’m so glad that you came all the way out here for me, but I can’t believe it. What about your job?”

Tifa found herself scoffing. “Cloud, I am quitting my job. I can’t go back there. My father… I had a big blowout with him. And Rufus - he scares me. I don’t know what is going to happen when I get back to New York, but I know that I can’t go on like this.”

“I saw him outside of your apartment last night,” Cloud admitted quietly.

Tifa turned in his arms, looking up at him. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Cloud responded with a toss of his head. “I was coming by to tell you what happened, but I saw him outside, standing on your steps. I got so angry, Teef, I almost went after him. I had to turn away before I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry, Cloud,” she told him. “I made it clear to him a thousand times that I’m not interested.”

“I know, Tifa,” Cloud answered. “If you need me to tell him to back off, I will.”

Tifa smiled a little at that, somewhat thrilled at the notion of Cloud defending her so valiantly. But she shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I think now, after everything, he’ll get the message.”

Cloud offered her another squeeze, and Tifa found herself blushing at his affection.

“Tifa,” he started softly. “I have something I want to give you.”

She watched as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and then a folded piece of paper, offering it to her. “You asked me to write you a poem a while ago. I worked on a few, but this is the one that I wanted to give you. I was... I was just waiting for the right moment.”

“Cloud,” Tifa breathed in response, accepting the slip of paper from him as her heart stuttered in her chest. She unfolded it slowly, seeing his tiny scrawl across the page in dark blue ink, a few short succession of lines in the page that had her unraveling as soon as she began to read them.

_Every time I look and you_

_I feel you heal me._

_Your love is the cure to the brokenness in my soul_

_The remedy to everything that aches and throbs._

_Your love heals my hidden wounds_

_And so please, love me deeply and love me forever._

Tifa skimmed over the brief succession of words over and over, tears welling in her eyes as her heart raced so fast she was sure it would leave her body. Captivated, she looked up at Cloud, her lips falling open.

“Cloud,” she whispered. “This is so beautiful. I can’t believe that you wrote this for me.”

He brushed her fringe out of her face, letting his fingers drift on her skin. “Tifa, I’ve had a rough few months. Ever since I got out of the army, my head has been so fogged up. I saw a lot of bad shit overseas, Teef. And it’s hard to get out of my head sometimes. But…whenever I’m with you, I feel like it clears up. So I mean the words that I wrote. I know you said that I fulfilled our promise, but you’ve done so much more for me.”

“Cloud,” Tifa whispered, but in response, Cloud dropped his lips to hers, kissing her deeply and pulling her in close.

Tifa could never tire of kissing Cloud Strife, but this moment was unlike any they’d shared previously. His lips burned her, sending her entire body alight as his tongue gently tapped at the seam of her mouth, passion raging through her blood in a way that was suddenly feeling desperate. She held him tight, suddenly wanting his lips on every part of her.

He pulled away for air after a moment, and Tifa found herself clawing at his jacket, offering a pleading look to him as he took her hand in his.

“Come on, Tifa,” he said gently. “Let’s go home.”

They drove through Breckenridge’s quiet streets, Tifa’s heart still thundering as she watched the scenery pass by, recognizing familiar sights and noticing new ones. Eventually, they came to Cloud’s house, and Tifa looked next door to see her own old home, feeling a stab of regret and sadness at the years that had passed by, an image of her mother a brief apparition in her mind’s eye.

She followed Cloud silently inside the house, pulling her carryon behind her, finding it quiet and dark. He dropped his keys on the table, looking around as he cut the lights on.

“You hungry?” he asked her. “I think my mom has some leftover spaghetti in the fridge.”

“Sure,” she answered, realizing that she hadn’t eaten all day.

They ate together quietly, the moment in the park still heavy between them, bringing with it the implications of the direction the rest of the night was heading. Tifa helped Cloud clear the kitchen when they finished, and he offered to let her use the shower first.

She washed in his bathroom and dressed in a pair of navy blue yoga pants and a white tank top. She decided to go braless; already it was late and she wanted to be comfortable. Instead, she pulled the matching hooding over her arms for a little bit of modesty, and she came out to find Cloud waiting patiently in the living room.

“Hey, he greeted her, his eyes instantly sweeping greedily over her entire body, drinking her in. She blushed as he got to his feet. “Um, you want to wait in my room while I shower?”

“Okay,” Tifa answered, following him down the hall.

He left her in his childhood bedroom, still unchanged from his youth. His full-sized bed was covered with a blue and white checkered quilt, and several old band posters lined the walls. Old sneakers were against the wall, a soccer ball in one corner, and an ancient desktop computer claiming half of his desk. Feeling filled with nostalgia, Tifa sat on his bed, smiling as she waited.

She found herself growing even more anxious as the minutes stretched by, wanting so badly to give everything that she could to Cloud. The knowledge that they were moments away from spending their first night fully together, no interruptions or intrusions to impede on their intimacy, had the insides of her thighs burning and her heart rapid in her chest. So long they had skirted around the depths of their feelings for each other, had skimmed around the desire and avoided taking it as full and far as it wanted to go.

But no more.

Cloud eventually joined her, quietly closing the door behind him, dressed in a simple white t-shirt and gray sweats. Tifa couldn’t stop herself from admiring him, her eyes sweeping a trail over him, starting with his fluffy yellow hair that was still slightly damp, across his too-beautiful face and down his lean and well-sculpted torso. Tifa found herself growing warm at the sight of his firmly defined arms, wanting them wrapped strong around her forever.

“Cloud,” she whispered when their eyes met. “Make love to me?”

Cloud didn’t hesitate, crossing the room quickly to join her on the bed. As soon as he was at her side, Tifa leaned into him, catching his clean scent, those arms coming to wrap around her. She smiled, hugging him back, and Cloud inhaled as he gently rubbed her back.

“Tifa,” he said to her gently. “I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know if I could get through this without you.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” she responded. “I needed you, too, Cloud.”

He turned to look down at her, gently taking her face in his hand. A moment passed as he breathed, and he gently stroked her cheek.

“Tifa,” he began quietly. “I love you.”

She found herself whimpering, the words soothing the ache that lived inside of her.

“I love you too, Cloud,” she replied, and instantly he was kissing her, pulling her into his lap as he held her tight.

“Goddamnit,” he suddenly cursed, turning away from her, and Tifa frowned, searching his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, but Cloud was chuckling darkly, shaking his head.

“Zack would kill me,” he admitted. “But I don’t have any condoms.”

“Oh,” Tifa said softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay, Cloud. I… I’ve been on birth control for a while now.”

“Really?” he responded. “Are you sure, Tifa?”

She nodded, smiling up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah… I guess, deep down inside, I’ve wanted this to happen for a while now.”

Cloud was smirking pridefully at her again, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her again.

She returned his kisses, the exchange growing hot between them as their tongues danced together again, lips prodding and melding. Cloud was unzipping her hoodie, and Tifa dropped her hands from his shoulders to let him slide it over her arms and toss it away. He pulled away from her mouth to look down at the curves and peaks of her body, and next, he was pulling her tank top, edging it over her head, dragging it away from her hair so he could toss it aside. She watched as his eyes darkened to a lustful shade of midnight blue, scanning the front of her body and over her breasts. After a long moment, he brought his hands to the dip in her waist right above her hips, giving her a gentle squeeze, his palms rough but firm and warm on her skin.

“Tifa,” she asked her in a calm breath, “What do you want from me first?”

She reached out for him, wanting to please him. She reached for the hem of his t-shirt, tugging on it until he obliged her and let her pull it over his head. She found her eyes wandering the lines and planes of his torso, his chest well-defined and toned, his arms shredded in a way that was starting to drive her crazy. She found her hand drifting next to the waistband of his sweats, eager to touch him.

“Let me take care of you first, Cloud,” she pleaded, but he was smirking at her, batting her hand gently away. 

“No,” he denied her, bringing his hands back to her waist, running them up her sides and over her ribcage, his hands splaying wide when they reached her breasts so that his fingers could brush over her pink nipples, causing her to gasp out. “You came all the way here for me, so let me take care of you first this time.”

She started to gasp, but Cloud was crowding her close to him, his lips now right against her hair by her ear, his breath warm as it drifted past her threads and into her skin, causing her to tremble. His hands were still thumbing her nipples.

“You want me to suck your pussy like I did on New Year’s, Teef?” he asked her, and she moaned in response, her hips rolling over his.

He laughed lightly at her reaction, then laid her down on the bed, crawling over her and pressing another kiss to her lips, directing the same attention to her cheeks and her nose. Eventually, he began to direct his descent downward, kissing her along her jaw and her neck, nipping at her flesh and soothing it with slow laves and laps of his tongue. She purred and writhed, feeling her center grow damp where it was still frustratingly trapped by layers of clothing. But Cloud was taking his time, moving slowly down her body, worshipping her collarbone with kisses before he reached her breasts.

He shifted slightly to better position himself on her, taking one peak into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it in a gentle exploration. Tifa spread her knees wider under him, and he settled himself comfortably between them, his body firm over her warmth. He continued to suck and lick at her nipples, alternating between each peak and leaving them drenched, blowing his breath across the sensitive skin and running his teeth across them in tender scrapes.

He went on for so long like this with this part of her body that Tifa was rolling her hips and moaning, pulling at his hair and arching her back off of the bed as her body became flooded with fire and her nipples grew sore. She whined, begging him unintelligibly, but Cloud only laughed and kept going, until Tifa felt a gentle wave of pleasure roll over her, causing her to slam her palms down as everything inside of her grew tight and she was leaking and desperate for his mouth on a different part of her.

Her breathing had grown heavy, and Cloud pulled his mouth away from her skin to glance up at her, smirking at the way that she panted.

“Did you just come, Teef?” he asked her in a husky whisper, and Tifa found herself nodding and blushing, in a cross between being stunned and embarrassed. But Cloud smiled so smugly at her that she found herself giggling.

“I told you I could make you do that,” he responded. “Good girl, Teef.”

She dropped her head back to the pillow, feeling her soul burning up inside of her. But now Cloud was working her pants and her underwear down over her hips, not wasting another second with the flirtations of his mouth.

When the fabric was gone, he palmed her thighs open wide and stared down at her center, and she could feel herself grow wetter, her arousal leaking out of her the longer that he stared, licking his lips with anticipation. After a long moment he looked back up at her face, his eyes dark and hungry.

“You’re so beautiful,” he professed.

Tifa could only stare, watching as he lowered himself between her legs and settled in, lifting her legs over his shoulders and holding her thighs down and open. His arms were so tight and strong around her, and she marveled at how easily he was able to pin her down, taking all of her control away so that could do nothing but slowly rotate her hips.

She mewled when he lowered his lips to her skin, running his tongue hot over her folds, discovering her entrance and dipping into all her liquids there before running a long line up to her clit. Once there, he stopped and lifted his eyes to hers, licking its sides a few times until she was panting, before he closed his mouth over her nub, suckling it first slowly and then with building pressure.

Tifa arched her back, her keens turning loud and wild. Without the fog of alcohol, the sensations he was producing in her were mind-blowing, causing her to toss her head back and forth as she quickly became overwhelmed by the pleasure. Her thighs began to tremble and strain, but there was nowhere to go, not with him holding her like this. All she could was accept it, feeling the build deep in her belly, her heart stammering in her chest.

“Cloud,” she found herself crying out, unable to shut her mouth. “Cloud, baby, that’s so good. Oh, god, Cloud. Why are you so good to me?”

She dropped her head back onto the pillow, unable to watch him tease and suck her most intimate parts any longer, focusing only on the pleasure stacking deep inside of her and threatening to throw her over the edge. She felt him dip a finger inside of her, toying at her opening and then sliding in deep to finger her gently while he began to hum over her clit, his tongue tapping at it while he continued to suck.

Tifa was losing her wits, seeing her vision brighten with pure white as her climax threatened. He kept up his assault, and soon she was breaking, tears bursting from the corners of her eyes as her orgasm broke free and left her shaking and whining his name desperately.

“Cloud, ohh, Cloud…. Cloud… Please…”

He didn’t stop, just slowed and lowered his pressure as she rode it out, holding her firm as the starburst inside of her belly filtered electric sparks over her entire body. Eventually, he pulled away from her, looking up to find her panting and whimpering, a line of sweat across her forehead. He began to rub her thighs gently, soothing her and comforting her as she returned to earth.

“You good?” he asked her softly, stopping to wipe his mouth.

She nodded, sitting up slightly, trying to calm her breathing. She let her eyes scan over his body, drinking in his perfection, stopping when she saw that he was still wearing his sweats. Wanting to see him fully, she exhaled carefully, willing her body to relax as she reached forward.

“My turn,” she told him when she was finally able to speak again, and she watched him grin a little as he sat back, letting her bring her hands to his waist.

He watched her, lifting his hips as she pulled the last remaining layers of fabric between them away, down over his hips and legs. He leaned forward to take them away from her once she had dispatched them, tossing them with abandon behind him. Tifa sat up on her knees on the bed, staring down at his erection, thick and long in his lap, straining pink and leaking at the tip, pointing eagerly right at her. Cloud leaned back on his hands as he waited, and Tifa admired the entire front of his body, all perfectly hard lines trapped by smooth, pale skin that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight outside of his window.

“You’re beautiful too,” she whispered, and Cloud smiled again, bringing a hand up to her cheek, cupping it gently and wiping a few of the tears that were still under her eyelids away.

Tifa crawled over him and carefully took him into her hand, and Cloud instantly winced at the feeling of her soft skin firmly gripping him. She gave him a squeeze, hearing him growl low in his throat as she started to pump, slowly at first before building a steady rhythm, pulling at his hot flesh.

“Fuck, Tifa,” he swore at her as she began to go faster.

“You like that, Cloud?” she asked him, squeezing again, rolling her hand over him.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, squirming on the bed. “Goddamn, fuck.”

“You’re so sweary,” Tifa chided him with a laugh, stroking him even more firmly, his precum leaking all over her knuckles. “You want my mouth, baby?”

“Please,” Cloud begged, wincing again, his features contorting as he leaned his head back in pleasure.

Delighted by the way that she was working him up, Tifa lowered herself so that she could drop her lips to the head of his cock. Instantly, she licked up all of the wetness that had already accumulated there, tasting him salty and hot as she trailed her tongue along his rim and through the split in his tip. Instantly, Cloud was hissing, his hand dropped how to the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her gently.

“Jesus, Tifa,” he cursed again. “What the fuck, baby.”

She smiled across his skin, lowering her lips even further, taking more of him into her mouth as he began to stretch her jaw. She let the saliva pool in her mouth so that she could wet him and make her deep strokes and sucks even more fluid. She soon found herself forcing him deep, and he was tapping at the back of her throat, his dick twitching inside her until she felt tears at the corners of her eyes. Cloud was moaning something ridiculous above her, squirming on the bed, pulling on her head.

“Tifaaaa….” He groaned, lifting his hips off of the bed and thrusting himself deeper down her throat.

“Shhh,” she whispered across his skin. She smirked, increasing the tightness of her lips and the pressure of her sucks, and she was now slobbering all over him. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft, holding him firm and warm where her lips could not reach. Soon, Cloud was squeezing her shoulder, his blue eyes bright when she looked up at him.

“Goddamnit, Teef, I’m gonna -“

She braced herself, watching him close his eyes as his back arched, and soon she felt him spurt inside of her mouth, steady and hot and thick, filling her cheeks and lining the back of her throat with his spend. She coughed a little, sliding her mouth off of him, then swallowed carefully, Cloud staring down at her completely mystified, the rims of his eyes wet.

“Tifa…” he was at a loss for words, and Tifa found herself grinning triumphantly at him.

Cloud was crawling over her now, a dangerous look in his eyes, his hand wrapped around his cock and encouraging it to stiffness again. But Tifa was feeling emboldened by that last act, eager to keep pleasing him. Before he could spread her legs apart, she found a sudden surge of strength and pushed him until he fell over in the center of the bed, and she was crawling over him, her core dripping wet in anticipation.

“What are you doing?” he breathed as she centered herself in his lap, pushing him down to lie flat on the bed. She reached between them, shoving his hand away, taking his dick in her fist, and pumping it gently.

“Shhh,” she warned him, angling him up with her entrance, and Cloud’s eyebrow went up as he watched her in fascination, his breathing still ragged.

“You like shushing me?” he asked, offering her a playful smirk, but Tifa sank down on him then, and feeling her wrapped tight and hot around him, his smirk transformed into a wince, and he was dropping his head to the pillow, expelling a rough and rumbly growl.

Tifa felt him instantly fill her with a deep stretch, and she found herself offering a wince of her own, hissing at the sudden pull of her insides. She had never been with anyone like this before, had never taken things quite this far, and she realized belatedly that she had been so overeager that she rushed right past the need to move carefully beyond the border of her virginity. She pinched her eyes shut, feeling the sharp pain inside of her, clutching her hands against Cloud’s belly as she tried to breathe her way through it.

“Tifa?” he was calling to her, instantly concerned. He sat up a little, hands now at her hips and running circles over them. Tifa just stared back at him, opening her mouth slightly, and unable to stop the single tear that slipped from her eye.

Cloud’s eyes softened, and he sat up fully now, gathering her into his arms and whispering into her ear. She could barely decipher his words, immersed in the feeling of him being inside of her and his arms firm and tight around her, soothing and comforting her.

“It’s okay, Teef,” he told her, rubbing her back. “You can do this. Just don’t move until you’re ready. I’m right here.”

She nodded, wanting to cry fully, but bit her lip to hold it back. Instead, she gave him a gentle shove until he was lying back again, and she folded herself over his body, pressing her breasts to his chest. She breathed by his ear for a moment, feeling her body adapt to his size, her walls settling around him, her arousal aiding her in sliding carefully over him. The pain soon dissipated, replaced by the heat and a sudden deep, throbbing feeling of pleasure, and suddenly Tifa wanted him inside of her like this forever, pulling her apart.

She began to grind over him, rotating her hips and sliding him in and out of her until she learned a rhythm that had him groaning and shutting his eyes, his head flailing from side to side on the pillow. She could feel him so deep that it ignited something inside of her, and she found herself looking down at his beautiful face as it contorted in pleasure, and she was dropping her fingers to the side of his face, stroking his cheek tenderly as she began to rotate even faster.

Cloud’s hands began to wander, trailing her bottom and her hips and her waist, squeezing her flesh lovingly as they glided over her sides and her ribs, up to her shoulders, where he held her to him close. At these explorations, Tifa found herself being spurred on, and she kissed his chin lightly as she began to grind deeper and faster.

“Tifa, holy shit-“

“Shhh,” she scolded him again, pressing her fingers to his lips and meeting his eyes, which widened slightly before falling closed again. The intimacy between them was sending Tifa skyward, her belly coiling tight as she felt Cloud repeatedly tap a spot deep inside of her that filled her with thrills and electric feelings of pleasure that were so intricately woven with her nerves and that she had never experienced before. Eager now for his own release, Cloud’s brought one hand to the back of her neck, pinning her against him as his hips began to rise off of the bed in beat with her own, bringing him somehow even deeper inside of her. She whined and mewled at this, finding him taking control of the situation.

“That’s right, Tifa,” he growled at her. “You’re so fucking good at this. I love the way you feel on my cock, so tight and wet and fucking me crazy like this.”

Tifa cried out his name, feeling like she might unravel completely. She was growing desperate now for even more of this feeling of fulfillment and deep, allaying contentment, wishing he would grow rougher with her. This slow grind was sweet and penetrating, but she was aching for him to destroy her completely, to tear her insides apart and make her fully his forever.

“Cloud,” she whined through her moans, and he slowed down a little, his eyes meeting hers. “This is so good, baby, but… I want you to take me from behind. I want you to fuck me, and hard.”

“Fuck,” Cloud swore again, and Tifa almost laughed at the way that he dramatically dropped his head to his pillow.

He let a beat pass before he flipped her over, and Tifa got on all fours in front of him, balancing on her hands in front of her, arching her back, and folding her legs under her. Cloud was cursing behind her again, soon holding her hips as he lined himself up behind her, stroking along her folds. Tifa felt herself tremble with anticipation, but soon Cloud was sliding inside of her, burying himself to the hilt.

He grabbed her shoulders with both hands, holding her upright as he began to rock into her, starting with a swift but measured pace that had him plunging deep inside of her, finding that searing spot again and setting her alight. She arched her back as Cloud pulled on her shoulders, driving himself deep, and soon she was crying out his name and he was wrapping his hand around her throat, squeezing gently until she saw stars.

“Oh, Cloud,” she shouted, “Yes, please, that’s so good, baby. Harder, please. Yes…” 

Everything that had built up inside of her over the last few weeks and months was now unraveling inside of her, forming into an explosion, and he was setting it off inside of her, winding it away with every thrust of his hips against her bottom. His hands were roaming all over her flesh, gripping her shoulders and running across her back, pushing her down and then lifting her back up again, gripping the base of her throat and pulling her hair, eventually trailing down to her hips and squeezing them, smacking her ass with the flat of his palm.

“Goddamnit, Tifa,” he swore, moving faster now, and Tifa soon felt the peak building inside of her. “You. Feel. So. Good.”

She cried out again, dropping her face to the bed as he continued to pour himself into her, and soon she felt herself break apart, tumbling over into her climax as a rainbow of colors burst bright against her vision. Cloud had lifted one leg as he pounded his way to his own release inside of her, and she could do nothing but lay there and accept him, screaming his name as he slammed into her mercilessly.

Soon, he too was splintering apart, and Tifa felt him suddenly begin to slow down, halting his hips and pausing, rubbing her hips and her waist tenderly as he breathed heavy and loud above her. Tifa was only vaguely aware of the sound of her own breathing against her pillow, and she could barely see straight, her vision was so clouded with tears. She felt her body shiver as he slid out of her, everything on fire.

He collapsed beside her, breathing heavily, staring into her eyes as she started to gasp and hiccup. His were bright and misted over from his orgasm.

“Tifa,” he whispered to her, but she could barely move her lips, finding herself unable to find words.

Cloud was suddenly arranging the covers around them, pulling them up over their shoulders despite the wet puddles they left scattered behind, and Tifa closed her eyes, falling contentedly into his embrace. But she was stunned when she suddenly felt his hand flirting between her legs, skimming through her folds and brushing over her clit.

She opened her eyes, hers widening as they met his, finding the devilish look on his face. 

“Cloud?” she whispered, her breath growing ragged again.

Cloud had looped one arm under and around her, holding her close, the other still dancing dangerously between her thighs. “I’m not done yet, baby,” he whispered to her, and then he was lifting her left leg up over his hips, lining his erection with her passage and sliding seamlessly inside of her, still gently rubbing at her clit. Feeling him inside at a new angle, Tifa raised her arms and held his neck, feeling him once again reach deep inside of her. He began to rock into her gently, his pace languorous and slow.

This feeling was different from the other times he had been inside of her, sending new sensual sensations of pleasure to her brain and emotions through her heart. It was sweet and tender, and he was whispering gently to her, kissing her face, her eyelids and her cheeks, her lips, and even her hair.

“I love you, Tifa,” his voice was deep and gentle, soothing the aches in her soul and repairing the cracks in her heart. “I love you so, so much. You’re so sweet and beautiful and I can’t live without you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Cloud,” Tifa found herself confessing, unable to stop the fresh well of tears that were pooling in her eyes. “You are everything to me.”

He nudged her nose, holding her close as he continued to rock deep inside of her. They remained that way for a long time into the night, still whispering sweet nothings to each other, Cloud filling her with a low-burning ache that took forever to build, before finally he was increasing his pace and rubbing her clit with more pressure, until they were both breaking apart around each other, both sighing each other’s names back and forth.

When he finally slipped out of her, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her forehead, and showering her with praise, Tifa just cuddled up in his embrace and let him hold her, unable to think or respond. All she could do was drift slowly into sleep, his body caged tight around her protectively, nothing but their heat and a line of sweat between them, and she knew that somehow, no matter what happened, as long as she had him, things would be alright.

* * *

Cloud woke to his phone buzzing on the side of his bed, sunlight streaking into his room from the window above and burning his eyelids. He frowned, turning away from Tifa, who was still naked and snuggled up tight against him, her dark hair spilling in a thousand directions and filled with tangles. He admired her sleeping form before reaching for his phone, seeing that it was a little after nine that morning and that the hospital was calling.

“Hello?”

“Cloud Strife? This is Dr. Donovan at Breckenridge Mountainside General,” the Dr. Greeted him “I hope you are doing well today. I wanted to provide you with an update on your mother.”

“Yeah?” Cloud breathed carefully.

“We will be performing the surgery to install the pacemaker tomorrow at seven in the morning. In the meantime, she will remain sedated. I ask that she not be disturbed at this time, however. You are welcome to wait while she is in surgery.”

“Okay,” Cloud found himself answering, running his hand over his face. “What’s the risk of this surgery?”

“It’s hard to say,” the doctor informed him. “But I have reasonably high hopes for its success. However, rest will be key from here on out.”

“Got it,” Cloud answered.

Moments later, he was ending the call, tossing his phone to the side. He looked down at Tifa, finding that she had stretched out on her belly now, arms folded around the pillow and holding it tight. He brushed her hair out of her face, admiring her features as she slept, thinking back on their intimacy of the night before, of the wild, soul-shredding passions that they’d shared, finding himself growing insatiable for her once again.

He laid down beside her, slipping a hand under the covers to slide down her shoulder and her back, finally to her ass, which he palmed and rubbed and squeezed, awestruck by her soft, perky round flesh. Soon, though, his hand was dropping and gently nudging her thighs apart, his fingers slipping between her split of wet flesh, eagerly stroking and rubbing her, working up her fluids and warming her clit.

Tifa moaned suddenly, pushing her way out of sleep as she slowly blinked her eyes open, turning her scarlet gaze up at him where he leveled a smirk at her. She slid her legs apart, feeling the pleasure surge through her fresh and new, and soon she was rolling her hips up at him.

“Cloud,” she whimpered, a question in her voice.

“Morning, Teef,” he greeted her mischievously. “You like that?”

“Mmmm,” she whined, nodding and dropping her face into the pillow again.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, working faster circles over her nub, “I know you do.”

He kept at it for a while until she was wet and writhing, and then he was climbing over her, centering himself behind her and gently prodding her legs apart. He gathered his stiff erection in his hand, guiding it between her legs, letting out a hot puff of air when he slid inside of her again.

God, he could never get over the feel of her around him, so hot and tight and wet, it was burning him alive. Lying his body flat atop hers, he held her close as he rocked into her, dropping kisses to her shoulders. The closeness and angles of their bodies permitted him in deep, and Tifa was soon moaning his name loudly, leaking a hot puddle onto his cock and all over the sheets.

“Oh, Cloud,” she purred, arching her back slightly. “Oh, baby, you feel so good inside of me. I wish I could have you living inside of me forever.”

Cloud swore again, shaking his head against her shoulder. He would never have suspected that Tifa would be so chatty in bed, but last night had proved that she could really run her mouth. It did crazy things to him to hear her curse and talk back to him like this, and he found himself moving faster inside of her, pulling himself up to his palms above her so that he could fall into her with a deep stroke.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled back at her. “Me too, Teef.”

He continued to punish her walls with long drags, pulling himself fully out of her before falling back inside of her, and soon she was moaning her way through her climax, crying out his name. Feeling her break apart again, he picked up his speed until he was spilling inside of her.

He rolled off of her, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath as Tifa giggled and hiccuped in elation at his side. Eventually, she quieted, and she rolled over to face him, sitting up on her elbow.

“That was amazing, Cloud.”

“You’re amazing, Teef,” he shot right back, and Tifa was smiling bright and warm at him.

After a few long minutes, Cloud was sitting up, intent to get up for the day finally. Tifa rose as well, unable to stop herself from admiring his body.

“You wanna take a shower?” he asked her.

And so, soon he found himself pressed up against her under the hot spray, first running his fingers through her hair to work the tangles of the night before out of her long, dark tresses. Her hair was so heavy and silky and full in his hands, and Tifa offered him some of her shampoo, and he worked his fingers over her scalp, deep into that cascade of black, the water running over her and rinsing her hair clean and leaving the winding curves and hills of her body drenched. She returned the favor, curling soap through his hair, smiling at him when he closed his eyes to the softness of her touch. Soon, they were washing each other’s bodies, laving the sweat and the fluids of the night and morning before away, along with all the sadness and turmoil they had both been mired in.

When they were both finally clean, Cloud surrounded by the sugary scents of Tifa’s soap, he found himself overcome with lust again, her body too alluring under the hot waterfall. He was turning her toward the wall, crowding behind her, Tifa mewling as she felt his erection press into the curve of her rear. His hands were traveling along the front of her body, trailing the water against her skin, one finding her breasts and twirling over her nipples, pinching them gently while his other hand slid between her legs to skim over her clit, rubbing it until she was spreading her legs and keening in that sweet, sing-song way again.

“Oh,” she breathed, arching her back. “Oh, Cloud, please.”

God, he loved it when she begged him like that. He decided to tease her, sliding the tips of his fingers away from her clit and instead over her slick opening, now just as wet as the rest of her body. His tip was still prodding her, and Tifa lifted one leg to balance it on the side of the tub, Cloud smirking at her as he continued to stroke her folds calmly and gently.

“Please, baby,” she whispered greedily.

Cloud smiled, leaning forward to kiss her neck, raising his fingers to circle her clit, rubbing, tapping, flicking gently. He began to press inside of her, and soon Tifa was moaning in earnest as he gently worked her from behind, sliding his length all the way inside of her. Still keeping his fingers on her clit, he lowered his hand from her breast to hold her hip against him, gently rocking into her and stroking her deep as she cried his name.

It didn’t take long for her to come on him with the dual assaults on her body, and as she trembled, Cloud moved himself to his own completion, filling her hot and deep before wrapping his arms around her and holding onto his body close, realizing once again that she fit him perfectly in so many ways.

Both coming down from their highs, they eventually got out of the water, drying and dressing in comfortable clothing for the day, Cloud in sweats again and Tifa in another yoga ensemble, this time one that was a deep red, matching her eyes. He watched Tifa longingly as she combed her long, dark hair, running his fingers through his own hair to muss it into style. Eventually, he heard his stomach rumble, and Tifa turned to him, offering him a smile from where she was standing looking in his bedroom mirror.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “I can fix us breakfast.”

He smiled back at her, feeling flooded with affection at this sudden domestic situation they found themselves in. “Sure. I’m sure my mom has stuff in the fridge.”

They went back downstairs, and Cloud let Tifa rummage through his fridge, watching her as she found eggs and bread and bacon, quickly locating everything that she needed to cook with careful efficiency. Folding his arms across his chest, Cloud found himself slightly impressed, not knowing his own way around a kitchen at all.

She worked quickly, and soon they were finishing their meals at the kitchen table, Cloud rubbing his belly as he sipped on the coffee that Tifa made. He was still feeling warm by all of their shared affections and passions of the last few hours, unsure how he could ever wind up such a lucky fucking bastard in the first place. The fact that she could cook almost as good as his mother could was only icing on the cake at this point.

“You’re a good cook, Teef,” he told her, and Tifa blushed, looking down into her mug as she smiled.

“My mom’s surgery is tomorrow morning, Teef,” he told her after another moment. “I think we should just take it easy here until then. I’m gonna pack up some stuff for her.”

“I’ll help you,” Tifa promised right away.

After a while, Cloud picked up the remote to the television that was on the kitchen counter and began to flip through some channels, content to just sit here with Tifa at his side. Between their shared confessions and acknowledgment of what they had come to mean to each other, he felt that at least one burden in his life had been alleviated.

Eventually, a familiar building caught his eye when he stopped on a news channel, and Cloud frowned when he realized that a CNN reporter was standing outside of the Shinra Capitol building in New York. Slowly, he turned to Tifa, finding her eyes widening slightly as she watched.

“We have breaking news in Manhattan,” the reporter was saying. “We have been informed of a major development concerning the scandal erupting inside of investment firm Shinra Capitol. At this time, additional arrests are being made, apparent allegations of insider trading, securities fraud, embezzlement, conspiracy, and violations of the RICO Act.”

Tifa’s mouth was hanging open as she watched, and Cloud felt his heart begin to race.

They watched the screen as the camera zoomed and panned to the front door of the Shinra Building, and soon the glass front doors were flying open, federal agents in dark blue jackets emerging. The group was led by a man with long dark hair, red eyes piercing and his gaze severe as he looked around at the flurry of reporters and photographers and concerned, nosy citizens on the street.

“Please step away and make space for us to pass,” the man ordered, holding up his badge.

Cloud heard Tifa gasp a moment later, watching as her father, Brian Lockhart, emerged next. He was handcuffed behind his back, another agent leading him along, Brian wearing a black three-piece suit with a dark teal-colored vest underneath. His head was lowered in shame, but his face was pulled into a severe glower, anger twisting his mustachioed features as he was led away.

Behind him, also restrained, was Rufus Shinra, dressed fully in white, his head held high and a dark simper on his face as he was led away to a police cruiser. At his right, also appearing viciously angry and offended, was his father, President of the Shinra Capitol Company.

Seeing Rufus in handcuffs, Cloud couldn’t help the way the corners of his lips tugged in a smirk.

He turned to Tifa, trying to think of something to say to her, but she was staring at the screen, her eyes wide and misted over, and everything he tried to think of seemed woefully unhelpful.

A man in a smart black suit with slick dark hair and a goatee had approached the galley of reporters, the name _U.S. Attorney for the SDNY - Reeve Tuesti_ scrolling on the bottom of the screen. “My office will be announcing the significance and complete nature of these charges in the days to come,” he shared ominously. “But just know that today, we have made significant progress in taking action against white-collar crime in this city. New Yorkers and all Americans should feel a little bit better about the state of our financial institutions.”

Reporters called after him, but Reeve held up a hand, pushing past them to enter a large black jeep that was parked nearby. The scene was chaotic, reporters screaming and demanding their questions.

Soon, another man appeared on the steps, relatively young and dressed in a dark suit, his hair a perfect cascade of black over his shoulders. The words _Shinra General Counsel - Tseng Taikoro_ scrolled across the marquee.

“We will not be taking questions or making any statements at this time, “ he warned the crowd. “Just know that President Shinra and his executive leadership are innocent of all charges. These are trumped-up allegations pushed by an overzealous prosecutor, fabrications with deep political motivations.”

Cloud watched as the man named Tseng pushed away, also climbing into a nearby vehicle, and the camera panned back to the reporter.

“Well, there you have it. We will access the full list of charges, but it looks the main arrests have been against the company’s President, its Vice President, Rufus Shinra, and its Chief Financial Officer, Brian Lockhart. This is following last week’s arrests of the company’s Strategy and Risk Officers, Scarlet Price, and Joseph Heiddegar. Back to you, Jake.”

The camera switched back to an in-studio anchor, a man with salt and peppered hair. He was sitting beside a young, female pundit, whose dark hair was trimmed in a short bob around her head, wearing a smart dark green blazer, her hands wrapped around a mug of water.

“Well,” the anchor named Jake began. “Thank you for staying with us. If you’re just joining, I am Jake Tapper and I am bringing you breaking news this morning concerning arrests at one of the largest investment banks in the world, Shinra Capitol. I have with me here this morning Yuffie Kisaragi, political correspondent to CNN who is known for her investigative journalism into corporate and white-collar crime. Ms. Kisaragi, what is your take on things that happened here today?

The woman smiled at the camera. “My take is that it was a long time in the making. Anyone familiar with Wall Street knows the prevalence of these crimes, but there have been allegations of fraud and abuse within Shinra for years. They have done an excellent job of covering it up, though. I even had a hard time digging there.”

“It seems that DA Tuesti was finally able to make this happen.”

Yuffie nodded, grinning now. “Mr. Tuesti is a very smart man. I believe he is running for governor next year. I’m sure he will do a lot for Wall Street reforms while in office.”

“Turn it off,” Tifa suddenly snapped.

Cloud did so, heaving a sigh. He glanced over at her, finding her shaking her head before dropping her head in her hands.

“Hey, Tifa,” he called to her softly. “I… I’m really sorry.”

Tifa just sighed in response, looking back up at him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just… I’m so disappointed. I really thought… I really thought he would be better than this.” Cloud pushed up to his feet and crossed over to her, dropping to his knees in front of her chair, instantly taking her hands in his.

“Listen, Tifa,” he began. “I know this hurts, but… it’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Tifa softened her features gently, and then she was dropping into his arms, Cloud instantly holding her tight on the floor as she began to cry.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! Until next time 💜💫💋


	8. We Are One Beating Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Update finally!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your continued love and support! This week really reinforced to me that the Cloti fandom is the best. Your encouraging words really mean the world to me.
> 
> Thanks to Spaceodementia for beta'ing again, for this chapter it helped me so much.
> 
> I must warn you all that this is a smut-heavy chapter (is anyone complaining? idk). Just want to be clear. Because this chapter clearly displays that I am a maniac and complete trash.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

* * *

Chapter Eight 

We Are One Beating Heart

“Oh, Cloud. Yes… right there… oh, god…”

Tifa had her palm wrapped around Cloud’s cock, but she couldn’t concentrate on it with the way his tongue was currently pressed between her folds, snaking down to lap at her clit before dipping back up to her entrance, sliding into it, in and out, gently. At her whines of pleasure, Cloud tightened the grip of his arms around her thighs, pulling her even closer against his face, the flat of his tongue dragging across her bundle of nerves, Tifa wincing at the pleasing sensations that bubbled throughout her body.

She dropped her lips again, closing her eyes and letting her tongue slide around the rim of his tip. As soon as her mouth was on him again, Tifa heard him groan behind her, his hips bucking up at her, sliding his length deeper into her mouth. She moaned, her brain mystified by the heat of his hardness in her hand and mouth, and the feel of his own lips on her aching, wet flesh.

They were laying on the center of the floor in the middle of his living room, having dropped there while they were sitting side by side on the couch, watching a murder thriller that Tifa had picked out. She had been pressed up against Cloud’s body, his arms around her waist and her leg tossed over his lap as she clung to him while she watched, wincing into his chest whenever something on the screen jumped out and frightened her. He would chuckle and squeeze her reassuringly, and eventually, his hands had begun to wander, one skirting up under her hoodie and finding her warm skin, the other rubbing and squeezing her thigh, drifting to its inside. At that sensation, Tifa had turned to look up at him, finding his eyes heavy-lidded and shadowed as he looked back down at her, his eyes a dark, stormy midnight blue.

It was the look of lust, Tifa knew, and she’d found herself slowly climbing into his lap, the movie abandoned as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she straddled him, dropping her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss that soon became hungry and wild. 

Somehow, they’d come up out of all of their clothes, and Cloud was pulling Tifa down with him to the soft carpet, turning her around as he laid back on the floor, positioning her over his face. And now, he moved his lips away from her slick core, instead pressing kisses to her inner thighs, gently nipping at her flesh there with his teeth.

Although it was horribly teasing, Tifa was at least able to focus her attention on him now that he’d taken his tongue away from her center of need. She squeezed his shaft tight in her fist, drawing her lips down and over him, her tongue stroking the thick vein that protruded on its underside and running saliva hot against his flesh. She heard Cloud moan almost painfully, his palms drifting to both cheeks of her rear and giving them a tight squeeze. She sighed against his skin, drinking in his flavor that she had become so intimately aware of since the night before, a taste that was uniquely Cloud and forever branded on her senses. She felt him stiffen and jolt, and she kept going, wanting to see him completely unravel beneath her.

Soon, though, Cloud had refocused his attention back to her wet split of flesh, once again distracting her from her task at hand. This time, he began to press kisses to her clit, soft, alternating pecks that had her squirming above him, her thighs trembling. She felt him lock his arms in an even tighter hold on her legs, pulling her against his face, and she felt the vibrations of his voice roll throughout her body when he spoke into her skin.

“Stay still, Teef,” he instructed her, and he was licking her clit again, sending sparks from that nub all the way to the roots of her hair.

She tried to focus on making him come, on sucking him dry, but now he had wrapped his mouth fully around her clit in the way that drove her crazy every time. He was pulling at her with those gentle, loving sucks, causing her brain to fizzle as her body flooded with heat and the center of her belly pulled tight with tension. She found her hips grinding over his face, and soon he was humming against her skin, and she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a wild cry when she felt her orgasm slam into her, electricity zapping each and every one of her nerves.

“Cloud!” she cried out as she rode through it, her arms and legs shaking even as he held her firmly in place, his mouth and tongue relentless.

Now that the wave had passed fully through her, Tifa caught her breath, feeling Cloud’s breath hot on her when he finally released his lips from her flesh. Her chest was heaving as he began to kiss her inner thighs again, his hold on her loosening as he drifted his hands up along her back, rubbing her consolingly. Feeling her senses begin to return, Tifa held his stiffness in her hand again, bringing her lips to fall over him as she finally concentrated and began to suck him in earnest, fast, wet strokes over the steel in her palm that had him lifting his hips from the carpet as he groaned and whimpered behind her.

“Tifa, ah…I’m gonna…” she heard him stutter and puff, seconds before he was filling her mouth with his hot, sticky spend, and Tifa locked her lips around him, letting him flood her to the back of her throat. He jerked and spasmed in her hand, and she slowly slid her lips away from him, swallowing carefully before she turned to look back at him. 

Cloud was breathing heavily, but at her movements, he picked his head up to glance over at her, his lips shining with the evidence of her own release. When their eyes met, he smiled at her, and then he was pushing her gently away from him so that he could sit up and turn her around, gathering her into his arms.

Still seated on the floor, he leaned back against the couch, pulling her in close, and Tifa laid her head against his chest, feeling perfectly content in his embrace. The television across from them still droned on with the movie they had been watching, but Tifa closed her eyes to it, letting herself fall completely enveloped in the strong, firm hold of his arms around her, her brain still misted over with the remnants of euphoria.

Being here like this with him, almost two thousand miles away from all her troubles, was enough to _almost_ help her forget the worries and the stresses back in the city. Cloud’s hold on her body, the way that his lips brushed her skin and his fingers danced over her most intimate parts, the way his eyes looked into hers with so much softness and love that she could only melt, all of it made her put aside the fact that her father had just been arrested for major financial felonies and that she had just screwed herself out of a job and likely embarrassed herself for disappearing.

None of that mattered, though, she realized. Now that she was with Cloud, both of them soothing away the aches that lived across their souls for one reason or another, she knew that she had made the right decision, that she would figure out a way to deal with the mess she’d left behind in New York when she got to back to it.

“That was good, huh?” Cloud was saying above her, now rubbing her back with the flat of his palm, his voice laid with a smug chuckle. Tifa snuggled a little closer to him.

“Really good,” she whispered back.

Cloud smiled at her, dipping his face against her neck, his nose trailing her shoulder until he dropped his lips there, showering her skin with kisses.

“You feeling okay?” she asked him after they had been sitting ensconced in each other’s afterglow for a while, both still too boneless to move from the foot of the couch. It was later in the evening now, and they had spent most of the day enjoying each other’s company, both trying to distract one another from their present anxieties. Cloud looked down at her, nodding his head a little.

“I’m okay. How about you?” he brought a hand up to her forehead, gently brushing her dark hair out of her face.

“Mhm,” Tifa hummed, and without really thinking about it, she turned in his embrace so that she was once again facing him, crawling over his lap and straddling him. They were both still naked and a bit sticky and sweaty, but Tifa didn’t mind, content to press her body against his as she sat up on her knees above him. Cloud leaned against the couch and tipped his head back to look up at her face.

“Your mom’s surgery is tomorrow,” Tifa mentioned softly, bringing her hands around to the back of his head so that her fingers could lace through the silky blond threads there. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

She heard Cloud take in his breath as he thought about that, his eyes meeting hers, deep blue and shining. His hands dropped to her waist.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’m sure. You’ll come with me?”

Tifa smiled at him, tilting her head as if his question had been the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course, I’m coming, Cloud. I’ll be right there. You don’t have to ask.”

He returned her smile, squeezing the dips above her hips with his palms, before he dropped his face between her breasts and nuzzled it there, causing her to erupt into a laugh.

Long moments passed where they held and caressed each other, and eventually, Tifa turned to realize that the credits of the movie they had been watching were rolling. She crawled off of him, Cloud pouting at the loss of the warm contact of her body, and she leaned over to find her discarded loungewear, pulling it back on. Eventually, Cloud did the same, and when they were both standing again and fully dressed, she came up to him and ran a finger along his cheek.

“I bet you’ve worked up an appetite,” she teased, unable to stop herself, finding him so boyishly adorable as he stood in front of her with that longing pout on his face. “Want me to cook you dinner?”

“You don’t have to do that, Teef,” he told her softly, leaning his cheek against the press of her finger.

“I want to,” she insisted, pulling away from him. “Let me go see what your mom has in your kitchen.”

She smiled, sauntering away, and Cloud was instantly at her heels.

Cooking was always a welcome distraction for Tifa. She did most of the cooking for her and Aerith, since Aerith really couldn’t be trusted in a kitchen unless she was heavily monitored or things came premade with explicit instructions. It helped her to clear her mind and forget the stress and anxiety that plagued her throughout the rest of her waking hours. She would stand over the stove or the cutting board or the sink, working her way through the repetitive motions, focused on perfecting the task at hand and not on the worries that took up so much of the rest of her brainpower throughout the day.

Her mother had been the one to teach her how to cook. When Tifa was five years old, her mom began to pull her into the kitchen in the mid-afternoons and have her stand on a chair or sit beside her, Tifa watching as she chopped vegetables, peeled potatoes, or rinsed the meat that had often come fresh from a local butcher. Tifa absorbed everything, until soon she was old enough to handle the knife or the peeler herself, or could responsibly handle raw foods without contaminating everything. Her mother taught her the names and flavors of every spice in the cabinet, Tifa learning which foods they seasoned best, the ones that matched poultry and fowl, and the ones that flavored red meat and pork. She learned how to brine and to bake, how to roast and fry and broil, and it wasn’t long before Tifa was skilled enough in the kitchen to nearly be able to handle an entire meal for the family on her own.

Following her mother’s death, Tifa became solely responsible for feeding her and her father. That was, until he’d hired a maid for their flat on Park Avenue, who took over most of the kitchen responsibilities. Tifa had found that disappointing as soon as the practice began. Following her mother’s death, the meals that she cooked and shared with her father in the evenings when he returned from work, or sometimes on Saturday and Sunday mornings, had been the only times they really spent together. They were the few moments when he would ask her how school was going or what her day was like, if she was enjoying the piano lessons she was taking or how she was adjusting to New York. But once he’d settled into his new role at Shinra and began earning promotions, the money started to come in, and both their lifestyles changed. He was rarely ever around anymore, and Tifa found herself frequently eating alone at the dinner table, a bland meal prepared by a kind-faced but aloof woman who came by every afternoon to settle the domestic duties of the household and then depart.

And then, she’d started high school, and her father had simply opted to send her away.

These memories passed over her as she drifted into Cloud’s kitchen, going straight for his fridge. Despite everything that was going on with him and his own mother, her return here in Breckenridge was digging up the pains of the past. She kept glancing out of the bay windows in the kitchen, next door to her old house, knowing that another family occupied it now and that everything that had once stood there and had been a part of her old life was gone.

She missed mom, so, so much.

She thought again about her father, who never seemed to get over that day any more than Tifa had, but who had never, ever wanted to talk about it. Tifa realized that they had maybe spoken about her mother’s death less than a handful of times in the decade since they’d left Colorado.

She pushed her parents and those memories from her mind, surveying Cloud’s fridge and freezer while he leaned against the counter across from her, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched. 

Tifa knew that Cloud favored pasta. Every time they’d gone out in New York, he’d suggested Italian. She thought it was cute.

Pasta was also relatively simple and straightforward to cook, and thankfully, Tifa realized that Claudia’s kitchen was well stocked and had all the ingredients for lasagna.

She pulled everything out, unearthing tomatoes and egg noodles, cleaning her cutlery and laying out pans and preheating the oven. She chopped onions and garlic and pan-seared the beef on the stove, boiling water for the noodles. The entire time, Cloud was silent and still as he watched her, not even bothering to turn on the small television to distract himself while she worked. She was initially vaguely aware of his attention, but she soon ignored him, now engrossed in the business of assembling a pan of lasagna, one of her favorite meals to cook.

It took Tifa a while to get everything mixed and ready before she could begin laying the layers, and with the heat of the oven and the stovetop rising into the atmosphere, along with her labored movements, a thin sheen of sweat had broken out across her forehead. She sprinkled the last layer of mozzarella on top, stepping away from the pan to admire her work before she nodded and slid it into the oven.

Once she set the timer, she sighed, rolling her shoulders and feeling satisfied with her work. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel, turning to find that Cloud was still rooted in place and watching her intently.

“…What?” she asked him, just as he cocked his head to the side with a smirk.

He said nothing, instead dropping his arms from their position across his chest, and strode across the kitchen to where she stood a foot in front of the stove. She opened her mouth to form a question, but Cloud was walking toward her with purpose until he was forcing her to step back and back, him crowding around her as his gaze grew hungrier.

“Cloud, what are you - ?”

Suddenly, her bottom smacked into the edge of the kitchen table, and Tifa felt the heat flush up and rise from her neck to her face just as his mouth was on hers again, kissing her messily and getting a taste of the tomato sauce she had tested before she’d started to layer the lasagna for baking. His tongue dipped between her lips, finding the open gap of her mouth as she spoke an invitation, and then he closed his lips around hers with a suck.

Tifa didn’t understand how or why her body always instantly reacted to him the way that it did, but as soon he kissed her, she found her arms reaching for him, looping around his neck so that she could card her fingers through his hair and truly enjoy the feel of their mouths joined hot together.

Cloud’s hands were voracious, anxiously roving her body while their tongues danced. As hot as it had grown in the kitchen, Tifa had already shed her hoodie, and so his palms were first running rough over her bare arms and then finding her back and waist, smoothing the skin beneath the thin fabric of her tank top as his fingers searched and roved. One hand squeezed her shoulder, while the other dropped to her bottom, rubbing it with slow circles a few times before he gave it a firm slap.

At that coarse sensation, Tifa moaned against Cloud’s teeth, letting her own hands begin to roam. They dropped to his shoulders and then his arms, squeezing the defined muscles of his biceps. At this, Cloud dropped both hands to squeeze her ass in response, lifting her off of her feet, scooping her up under her bottom. He grinned against her mouth, Tifa crossing her legs at the ankles around his waist as he continued to palm her fleshy rear over her yoga pants.

“Cloud,” she heard herself purr as their kiss broke, and Tifa pulled her face slightly away from his, dragging her hands up to his cheeks to squeeze them slightly, looking down to find his lips red and wet and kiss-bruised. He was still holding her up by her bottom with ease, and his blue eyes were dark and misted over with desire when they met. 

Emboldened by that longing look in his eyes, Tifa anchored herself to him again by hooking one arm around his neck, her free hand sliding between their bodies. She let her palm glide flat over his chest and abdomen, feeling the lines of definition through his t-shirt. Cloud was now kissing her jaw, his lips wet and sending a wave of flames across her flesh. She heard him hitch his breath when she slid her hand past his sweats and his underwear, and Cloud squeezed her ass even harder, pulling her flush against him.

Tifa laughed richly as she reached for him inside his pants, finding him stiff and straining against the fabric. The way that he groaned against her face made her feel powerful and wild as she began to stroke him with her palm, and soon he was growling, backing her up and dropping her on the kitchen table.

She laughed again at the desperate and savage look on his face, at the way he wiped the saliva from her kisses away from his lips with the inside of his wrist. Tifa bit her bottom lip up at him when their eyes met again, and instantly she caught something flash across the aquamarine in his.

He palmed her thighs open so that he could stand between them, and his hands began to wander again, this time with more speed and more pressure than before. They traveled trails along the sides of her waist and up and down the front of her body, gripping palmfuls of her breasts through cotton before his fingers found her peaks and pinched her nipples hard, sending electricity through every nerve in her body. They ran over her back and her arms, singeing her skin with heat as they lifted and found her neck and her shoulders, running along her arms and squeezing her throat. 

All the while, Tifa kept chewing her lip and looking up at him, one hand on his shoulder and the other pumping his cock under her fist, and Cloud’s mouth was hanging open as he stared down at her. 

He lost patience with this quickly, though, and Tifa heard herself laugh when he pushed her back down against the table, his hands coming to the waistband of her yoga pants and peeling them down to her knees. He left them there, though, not fully divesting her of them. Instead, he pushed her legs back, revealing her pussy to him.

“Hold your legs,” he demanded, his voice roughed over with lust, sending a dark shiver through Tifa’s insides as he pulled his own sweats and underwear down to the center of his thighs.

She was already so wet, and she knew that exposed like this, she was probably dripping. She could hear it in the heavy way that Cloud was suddenly breathing. Obeying, she brought her arms around the backs of her knees, pulling her legs into her chest, spreading herself further for him.

“Goddamnit, Tifa,” he swore above her, running his palm up from her bottom along the back of her thigh, and Tifa felt the anticipation course through her like a jolt of electricity. His hands were warm on her skin, rough and calloused from handling weapons during his time in the armed forces and from lifting weights to keep his body in shape. The dual sensations were igniting her as she waited for him to press inside of her with the vulgarity his mouth was promising.

It didn’t come right away, though. Instead, two long fingers began to stroke along her folds, dipping into the stream of arousal that was slipping out of her. Despite the urgency in his tone and the rest of his body language, his fingers were slow and teasing, their tips dancing along her seam, gently penetrating the sensitive rim of her opening without pushing too deeply, pulling on it in a way that had her hissing. Occasionally, he would lean forward and press a kiss to her ankle or her calf, her legs still suspended above her.

“Cloud,” she found herself begging, still holding the backs of her knees but spreading her legs a little wider for him submissively, wanting him to know that she was his in any way that he wanted her.

“Tifa,” he called back to her, his voice laced with a dark chuckle just as he pressed the pad off his thumb to her clit, beginning a slow, upward stroke.

Almost instantly, Tifa felt the hot, familiar waves of pleasure shoot skyward to wash over her brain, and she was pinching her eyes shut tight, whipping her head from side to side. He stopped once to wet his thumb in the pool that was leaking out of her, before he raised it again and continued to caress her nub, now slick with her own liquids. The heated, slippery sensation beneath the roughness of his thumb made his rubs spike her with even more dangerous white pleasure, and she dropped her arms from holding back her knees, keeping her legs in place with the taut, tense pressure in her thigh muscles as she reached to grab both sides of the table and grip them tightly.

“Oh, Cloud, yes…” she began to mewl, feeling the pressure in her belly build tight as he stroked her blissfully, his chest vibrating with amusement as he chuckled again, low in his throat. Tifa felt herself grow even wetter, and she tried to widen her legs even further, but her legs were still held together with spandex around her knees.

“You like that, Tifa?” he asked her, pulling her knees to one side, and Tifa could only nod in response.

She was so, so close when Cloud suddenly stopped, causing her to whine a protest as she looked up at him, her eyes glassy with disbelief. But he only smirked lustfully at her before he grabbed her by the waist and slid her down the table until her rear was hanging off of it, smoothly sinking every inch of his length inside of her.

She was so slick from his previous touch and their earlier kissing that it was a seamless glide, and soon she was filled with him again in exactly the way that she liked, in the way that she was beginning to crave now that she’d gotten her first tastes of him. Tifa began to moan and cry out and beg, her hands coming up to push up her tank top and palm her breasts as her mouth fell open. Cloud brought the hem of his t-shirt up and was holding it out of the way with his teeth, and he was holding her thighs firmly in place as he began a swift pace into her, his penetration slick and deep, his pace rough and fast as his hips jerked in a needy, seeking succession. He was finished with foreplay, and there was nothing languid or tender in his movements, it was just a fast, honest fuck.

It was the sexiest fucking thing she’d ever seen or felt in her life.

“Cloud… fuck me… please, baby,” she heard herself cry, her mouth once again opening and words tumbling out on their own accord. “Harder, Cloud. Now… please. I know you can fuck me harder than this.”

Cloud swore so violently that his words were unintelligible, and Tifa found herself squeezing her eyes shut again when he began to pound into her so vigorously she could feel him press against her cervix, scraping against the spongy spot inside of her that sent every part of her body into fireworks. Everything began to build too hot and sensitive, blended by the aching pleasure that lingered in her nerves from his stroking caress against her nub. Her hands dropped to the sides of the table and squeezed again, just as she felt the explosion inside of her, raining sparks and flames on her brain as she hit the highest point of a very sudden orgasm that seized her and set her entire body alight.

Tifa cried out Cloud’s name as she rode through it, lifting her hips up and only deepening his angle inside of her in the process, and Cloud held her thighs tight against his body as her voice splintered and broke with anguish. He grunted as he gave her a few final, deep pumps, before his hips slowed and he was coming inside of her again, jerking and sputtering as he lowered his hand from her thighs to her waist, leaning his forehead against the back of her calves.

“Fuck, Tifa,” he swore against her skin, and Tifa could only laugh, dropping her hands to her belly, the elation of her climax still singing in her blood and leaving her brain befuddled with mist.

* * *

Eventually, the trembling in Tifa’s thighs had stopped, and she’d gathered herself and cleaned up everything so that she could finish their meal, pulling the bubbly lasagna from the oven and quickly throwing together a salad for them to have along with it. For whatever reason, there was a new gravitational pull living between them, and they didn’t want to be apart from one another, sitting side by side as they ate. They were mostly quiet during their meal, Cloud occasionally complimenting Tifa on her cooking, their eyes sometimes meeting before they would both blush and look away, the explosiveness of their earlier shared passions sizzling in the air above them.

Yet despite the bashfulness that their intimacy had brought on, Tifa knew that it was about more than just sex between them, and that thought settled the torrents that had been raging inside of her for so long. There was no denying that there lived a powerful attraction between them, one that had them both fraying at the edges ever since they first ran into each other on the train all those months ago. It was an attraction that, now that they had given in to their feelings for each other, pulled them together and had them tearing one another apart at every opportunity they had. 

But it was more than that. It was the soft, tender look behind his gaze every time his eyes fell on her. It was the way that her heart warmed over every time he leaned in to listen to her. It was in the gentle way that he would brush her hair out of her face or press kisses to her forehead, or the way that he would pull her in close to the protective shell of his body when they would walk together through the cold streets of New York City.

After they’d eaten, Cloud insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, kissing the corner of Tifa’s mouth and patting her bottom, sending her upstairs to shower so they could relax for the rest of the evening, reminding her that they had to get up early to get to the hospital. Tifa nodded and smiled shyly before she left the kitchen, thinking there was something so endearingly sexy whenever Cloud would become decisive and take charge of a situation, gently issuing commands in a way that Tifa thought only he could.

After washing her hair and body under the hot spray, Tifa padded down the hall to Cloud’s bedroom, wrapped in one of his mother’s plush blue towels. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to rub lotion into her skin before running her brush through her damp locks.

They hadn’t left the house at all, and Tifa had been wearing her loungewear all day. She stared at her open suitcase on Cloud’s floor, thinking about the next pair that she could put on for bed that night, or about the terrycloth shorts that she’d packed. But what would be the point? She knew that Cloud would likely just peel her out of everything once he joined her.

Glancing up at the mirror above his dresser, she smirked at her reflection and kicked her suitcase closed again, rising to open the drawers of his dresser and rifle through them.

Most of them were empty, likely unloaded years ago when Cloud had left for the military. But she did find a drawer that had a few shirts left behind, still neatly folded. Tifa lifted one, finding it clean and wondering if Claudia still kept up with Cloud’s laundry, even though he’d moved out so long ago.

The shirt was a black band t-shirt, faded from years and years of washes. It was easily ten years old, because Tifa was sure that this particular band had broken up ages ago. It was probably too small for Cloud to wear now, judging its size as she held it up, but it was plenty big enough for her to wear roomily. She smirked, pulling it over her head, its hem falling to her mid-thigh. She decided to forego underwear.

While she waited for Cloud to join her, she retrieved her phone from the bedside table where she’d left it the night before. After her conversation with her father the evening before, she’d turned her phone completely off, not wanting to deal with any of the communication that might try to follow her from New York. And especially after seeing her father arrested on that newscast that morning, she really did not want to speak to anyone back in the city.

Still, she knew that she could not avoid her life forever. Not to mention, Aerith might be trying to reach her to make sure everything was alright. Sighing, Tifa powered the phone back on and watched as the display booted back up and lit aglow with the backlog of missed communications.

**_Aerith:_ ** _Did you make it to Colorado okay?_

**_Aerith:_ ** _How is Cloud? How’s his mom?_

**_Aerith:_ ** _I’m praying._

**_Rufus:_ ** _Where are you?_

**_Elena:_ ** _Are you coming in today Tifa? I need to go over some reports with you._

_2 Missed calls from Rufus Shinra._

_1 Missed Call from Dad._

**_Tseng:_ ** _Are you coming to work? We have several problems._

**_Tseng:_ ** _I knew that there was something going on with you._

_2 Missed Calls from Aerith Gainsborough._

**_Aerith:_ ** _Is everything okay, Tifa?_

**_Jessie:_ ** _OMG. Did u see the news? WTF Teef! Did ur dad really do all that crazy shit?_

**_Jessie:_ ** _Barret is losing his mind!_

_1 Missed Call from Barret Wallace._

**_Barret:_ ** _Tifa, call me ASAP_

_4 Missed Calls from Aerith Gainsborough._

**_Biggs:_ ** _Hey, Tifa. I’m really sorry. If you need to talk, just let me know. AVALANCHE is here for you._

**_Elena:_ ** _OMG where are you?_

_3 Missed Calls from Rufus Shinra._

**_Rufus:_ ** _Where have you been?_

**_Rufus:_ ** _I’ve been released, by the way. So has your father. Everyone has been looking for you. It would be nice if you answered your phone. We could have used your help today._

**_Rufus:_ ** _So you’re going to ignore me? Don’t be a brat._

_2 Missed Calls from Aerith Gainsborough._

**_Aerith:_ ** _Call me!_

_1 Missed Call from NYSTATE US DA._

_1 Voicemail from NYSTATE US DA._

_1 Missed Call from Dad._

_1 Voicemail from Dad._

**_Dad:_ ** _Tifa. Please call me. We need to talk._

_5 Missed Calls from Aerith Gainsborough._

**_Aerith:_ ** _TIFA!!!!_

**_Aerith:_ ** _DON’T MAKE ME FLY TO COLORADO!_

Tifa sighed at the contact log, seeing that the last message had come in less than a half-hour ago. She scrolled through the litany of messages and calls, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by everything that was happening thousands of miles away, waiting for her and trying to pull her back into its trenches.

Her father. Her friends. Rufus.

All of it made the anxiety return to the pit of her stomach, all of the unease that she and Cloud had begun to work away returning with a jab inside of her chest. 

She couldn’t deal with it.

She did, however, need to deal with Aerith. Aerith was her only lifeline back in New York, the only thread that she felt like she could trust to hold on to. She typed out a quick response to her before placing the phone on silent mode.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Hey, Sorry about that, my battery died. I’m safe, with Cloud. His mom has to have surgery tomorrow. I’ll let him know you have them in your thoughts. I’ll be home in a few days. I’ll text you later_

She tossed the phone onto the bedside table, dropping her head into her hands just as Cloud pushed open the bedroom door, standing in the doorway.

She picked her head up again and looked over at him, finding him standing there in nothing but sweats, his skin still slightly misted over and his hair a little damp from his shower. As soon as their eyes met, his widened a bit in concern before he crossed the room over to her, his chin tipped to one side.

“Hey…” he began, falling to a seat beside her on the bed. Instantly, she caught the crisp, clean scent of his soap, a woodsy spice that had her leaning into him, finding him warm. As soon as her head found his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around her and held her against him. “You alright? You look kinda upset.”

Tifa sighed against his chest, shaking her head. The glow of the texts and missed calls were now burned across her retinas, and she couldn’t dispel them no matter how many times she blinked. 

“It’s nothing, Cloud,” she finally answered him, not wanting to dampen the mood that had begun to flourish between them, unburdened by her problems in New York and focused more on his own worries and making sure that his mom would be okay. “I just went through my missed messages and… it’s a little overwhelming. But it’s nothing that can’t wait until I get back to the city.”

Cloud shifted a little, taking her chin in his hand and turning her to face him.

“You sure?”

Crashing into his blue depths, so gentle and concerned and lit up with starlight behind them, Tifa found herself nodding, feeling calmer the longer she looked into them.

“Yeah,” she answered, offering him a smile, “I’m sure.”

He smiled back at her and nodded, and then his eyes dropped, scanning over her body in his worn old shirt, landing on the tops of her pale, bare thighs. 

“…Is that my shirt?”

Tifa blushed slightly, looking down at her appearance and suddenly feeling a little embarrassed for wearing it. “Y-yeah. I found it in your drawer. Sorry.”

Cloud chuckled, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. “Hey, don’t be sorry. You look really sexy in it.” His voice had grown soft and low, and his free hand was now toying with its hem, knuckles brushing against the tops of her thighs.

Tifa turned away from the intense, fiery cerulean of his stare, her cheeks staining an even pinker shade.

“That band broke up a while ago,” Cloud muttered absently, his laugh now a little lighter and louder, and Tifa looked back up, finally letting their eyes meet again as she joined in his mirth.

After a moment, though, Cloud was rising to his feet, his hand now circled around her wrist and pulling her up and along with him. Her heart rate beginning to climb, Tifa pushed up to her feet beside him.

“Come here, I want to show you something,” Cloud was whispering now, his voice low and sensual, his tenor tremulous again.

It made her heart stammer in her chest as she let him pull her along, but he only stopped in front of the dresser across from his bed. It was now full dark outside, the only light in the room streaming in from the moon and stars and the street lights outside of his window. The combination cast a soft, pale blue illumination over them and the mirror on Cloud’s dresser, and Tifa was once again staring back at her own reflection in the glass.

So many times she had looked back at that face in a mirror over the last few months, wondering who she was truly even looking at anymore.

Cloud had positioned himself behind her, his arms looping around the front of her body and pulling her in close to his. She fit delicately inside the cage of his arms, his chest warm against her back. He dropped his chin to her shoulder, pressing a kiss to one side of her throat, and Tifa looked up, their eyes meeting in the glass as his hands began to travel the front of her body, running warm over her thighs and her abdomen and her breasts and even her collarbone.

“Do you see what I see?” he whispered into her flesh, running a chill over her that didn’t end until it reached her ankles.

“…What?” she breathed, her voice catching in the back of her throat.

She felt him smile where his lips were pressed to her skin. “The most beautiful woman in the world,” he answered, his voice soft and rumbly, almost shaking with thunder as the words left his lips. “The smartest one. The sweetest, kindest one. The most powerful one.”

He kissed her neck again, this time his tongue darting out to press firm at her pulse before he gave her a gentle, soothing suck, and Tifa felt her body tremble as tears burned the corners of her eyes, his words reverberating throughout her entire being.

“Cloud…” she canted, speechless.

Cloud’s hands continued to wander, and he pulled the hem of his t-shirt that she wore up to her chin, settling it near her shoulders, exposing her wide, curvy hips and her flat tummy and her heavy, pendulous breasts, her nipples pink and already hard.

Instantly, at the sight of everything and her own flushed cheeks, Tifa closed her eyes and leaned her head back against Cloud’s shoulder.

But he had other things in mind. “Open your eyes,” he commanded her, his voice rough and gravely. “And hold your shirt up.”

She did as he asked, opening her eyes and then bringing her hand up to hold his old shirt in place, bunched up at her clavicle. Cloud’s hands were both now free to continue roaming, and his deep, sapphire gaze held hers in the shadowed reflection of the mirror as they traced the lines of her abdominal muscles and brushed over her nipples, stiffening them painfully. He squeezed at the dip in her waist, running his palms smooth over her flesh, rubbing her hips and thighs and even the curves of her ass before his hands came around to her front again. 

Watching his slow, loving caresses against her own flesh had her rolling her hips at the desperate need that began to build deep in her belly, her center leaking against her thighs and her clit pulsing with an ache that badly needed to be consoled. Cloud seemed to sense this, because he stopped to hook one arm under her right thigh, lifting her leg into the air and adding her exposed, shaved wet pussy to the frame in the mirror.

Tifa heard herself gasp at the sight of her body bared and on display like this, staring back at her own pink, wet flesh in the highlights of moonlight as Cloud pressed his erection against her rear. But he was breathing through her hair now, his lips hovering by her jaw as he nudged her with his nose, drawing a line upward to her ear.

“So pretty,” he whispered to her, just as he brought his left hand up to drift indolently between her spread thighs, his hand gently cupping her sex before his fingers lazily got to work.

Tifa watched as his fingers danced along the insides of her thighs, making her tremble and purr, the heat rising and the need building. She couldn’t look away when his fingers curled and found the lines of her folds, tracing them with a feathery lightness as they split around her hot, leaking entrance and up to her clit. He stopped the press of his fingers right below her bundle of nerves, staring directly into her eyes as she began to grind her hips in a seeking rotation, begging him with whiny, high pitched mewls.

She heard him chuckle, and his arm that was holding up her thigh strengthened its grip, pinning her against him so that she stilled, so that he could rub his erection against her bottom. It only added to the pulsating desire and the hot longing that was coursing through her blood, and she tossed her head back with a keen, dragging her free hand behind her head to find his hair.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Cloud warned her.

She obeyed, her body on fire and burning. Cloud continued to watch her expression in the mirror, dipping a finger to tease the tight ring of her opening. He pulled at it a little, causing her to gasp, before dipping inside to drench his finger, pressing in and out of her in a slow rhythm that was just enough to flare the sensitivity inside of her as he sweetly fucked her with that long, graceful digit. 

“So fucking wet, Teef,” he growled right into her ear, his breath warm.

She badly needed him to touch her clit, and she struggled against his tight hold on her body, begging him with a whimper of his name.

He smirked at her in the mirror, this time kissing her hair, before he pumped a few more times inside of her. He then slowly pulled his finger out of her, dragging with it long swirls of her wetness up to the swollen apex of her sex, where he rested the pad of his finger just below her clit and then pressed upward.

The surge of pleasure was white-hot, and Tifa let out a wild, desperate moan as the feeling careened through her. She saw Cloud’s eyes darken with excitement and desire at this as they held their gazes in the mirror, and he started to draw circles over her nub, occasionally stopping to flick it or tap it or gently pull it in a teasing, downward stroke between two fingers. All this onslaught did was send her entire body among the stars, and she was soon whining and leaking and spreading her legs and fighting the strength in his body that was keeping her pinned with all of the strength in hers.

And their eyes never separated.

“Oh, Cloud, please, please, please…. That’s so good, Cloud. Please don’t stop. I wanna come. Fuck, Cloud. Please.”

“Don’t worry, Teef. I’ve got you.”

Tifa found herself becoming desperate, having never heard herself sound so high-pitched or whiny. Cloud nodded at her, and he eased up on his teasing, now stroking her clit swiftly and relentlessly, his pressure firm until she felt everything inside of her pull tight like the strings of a guitar before she snapped, her climax bursting through her body in a starburst before she sobbed out his name and finally closed her eyes to the image in the mirror that had sent her over the moon and made a mess between her thighs.

Cloud rubbed her softly and gently until she came down, and when her wails and cries and hiccups had mostly calmed, he slowly pulled his hand away, bringing his arms around her to squeeze her in a tight hug.

Her brain was clouded over by the high; it was almost enough to make her pass out. But Cloud was gently turning her in his arms again, kissing her on the nose and offering her his sweet smile again as he rubbed her back.

“Cloud…” she whispered, her voice raspy when their eyes met, now face to face. Cloud only crashed his lips to hers, and he picked her up, bringing her to his bed where he lowered her before he kicked out of his pants and was hovering over her, both of their mouths greedy on each other’s.

It wasn’t long before Cloud was sliding seamlessly inside of her, her legs hooked over his shoulders as he began to press into her, holding himself up above her on his palms as he rocked into her with the slowest, deepest, most searching grind he had given her yet. It was a long, drawn-out affair, lasting long into the night as he built her up slow and held himself back, basking her with affection and praise and encouraging her to talk back to him, Tifa whispering her desires and her darkest, most amorous sentiments up at him as she pulled her fingers through his hair. Eventually, his own voice choked with grunts and moans of her name, he brought her to the pinnacle again, and they tumbled over it together, Tifa sighing and moaning breathlessly as Cloud came inside of her once more, and she’d lost count of how many times that had happened.

She really hoped her birth control was effective.

It wasn’t long before he was collapsing on top of her, sighing and gasping and rolling to his side. She heard him mumble a tired, drowsy goodnight, telling her again how much he loved her, and Tifa thought she mumbled it back.

But she couldn’t be sure, because as soon as his arms were around her, she was falling under again, asleep and wrapped in his love and completely absent of all of the worries that waited to haunt her, thousands of miles to the East.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tifa was looking up at him from the passenger seat of his mother’s car, her scarlet eyes wide with concern, her hands folded in her lap. Cloud gave her a cursory glance before he turned back to concentrate on the road as he drove.

“Yeah, Teef,” he lied, rolling his shoulder a little bit. “Don’t worry about me.”

Cloud had one hand resting on the gearshift as he drove, and he glanced back at Tifa when he felt the warmth of her palm fall over his, finding her once again offering him a concerned look that was edged with a smile. 

They were driving back to the hospital for his mother’s surgery. It was a little after six that morning, and the sky was just beginning to brighten with the first rays of sunlight as the sun peered from behind the Rocky Mountains in the distance. Cloud and Tifa had both fallen asleep early the night before, tangled in each other’s arms and spent, and they had risen early, quietly showering together and exchanging kisses and caresses before they dressed for the day.

The truth was, Cloud was unraveling the further inside the closer they drew to the hospital, and to the hour his mother’s surgery would begin. He was anxious about the entire ordeal, especially since Dr. Donovan had been so vague about the procedure’s outcome and success rate. And it unnerved him more than anything that his mother was still sedated, that he’d been unable to hear her voice or feel her squeeze his hand back before she went under the knife.

He tried to keep Tifa from realizing all of this, from burdening her with the anxiety and the fear that was buried deep inside of him over the entire chain of events and the uncertainty of what would happen in the next few hours. But the more time they spent together, so much of it intimately, the more that he knew that he and Tifa were connected and in-tune with one another, and he couldn’t shield himself fully from her anymore. Whenever her dark red eyes met his or her skin settled on his with its warmth, he knew that he couldn’t fully hide.

Still, he kept quiet the rest of the ride until they arrived at the hospital, daybreak now emerging fully. As soon as she was out of the car, Tifa found his side and took his hand in hers, squeezing it and offering him a reassuring smile as they walked inside the hospital together.

After sitting in the waiting room of the cardiac wing for a while, Cloud beginning to pace as his nerves were shorn down by trepidation, Dr. Donovan appeared, already dressed in his surgical scrubs. As soon as Cloud saw him, he turned on his heels and made his way over to him.

“Please, Mr. Strife,” Donovan greeted him, holding out a hand. “Have a seat. There are a few things that I’d like to go over with you before you see your mother.”

“Cloud,” Cloud insisted, not liking the feeling of irritation build on top of his nervousness.

Donovan nodded curtly, but blew right past it. Cloud sat down beside Tifa, who was looking over his shoulder curiously at Donovan, who sat beside him. The doctor noticed her stare, and he raised an eyebrow at Cloud before he continued to divulge any information.

After a moment, it dawned on Cloud what was happening, and he glanced at Tifa, then back at the doctor.

“This is my girlfriend, Tifa,” he explained without thinking about it, and he missed the way that Tifa’s cheeks darkened when he said the words. “She’s fine to be here.”

Donovan nodded, then launched into his explanation. “As I explained to you before, Cloud, your mother is suffering from a significant case of congestive heart failure. This has occurred due to a weakness in the heart that makes it difficult to pump blood, and is associated with artery blockages, of which your mother fell victim to, resulting in a heart attack.”

Cloud just listened, watching Donovan’s face closely, and he felt Tifa rest her palm against his back in consolation, right above his own heart.

“As I explained, this condition requires significant management from both a medical and a lifestyle perspective,” Donovan went on. “In addition to this, we have recommended the pacemaker, as you know. This device will assist with proper heart rate and blood flow through the heart’s ventricles via the use of electrical pulses. This is the procedure we are undertaking today.”

Cloud nodded, not sure there was anything that he could say, but feeling the fear inside of him grow, all of it sounding terrifying.

“It’s not a typically high-risk procedure, but your mother’s condition does complicate things. She just suffered a significant cardiac event. However, time is of the essence. I just wanted to be sure you were aware of this.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Cloud found himself asking, his voice small.

Donovan pursed his lips into a line as he offered Cloud a small, vaguely reassuring smile. “We will do everything in our power to make it so.”

Ultimately, Cloud was permitted to see his mother for a brief moment before the surgery was scheduled to start, though the nurses forced Tifa to remain in the waiting area. She squeezed his hands tight before he left, escorted by a nurse to the operating rooms.

As the surgical team had already begun to prep for the procedure, Cloud was only allowed to view his mother through a thick glass divider as she was wheeled into the room on a gurney. From where he stood, she looked even paler than he’d ever remembered seeing her, her thick blond hair tucked away into a plastic surgical cap. Her eyes were closed and her face was serene, her hands laid carefully at her sides.

Cloud had never seen her so still. All her life, she had been active, flitting about, fulfilling the duties and responsibilities of two parents while working outside of the home to keep food on their table. Not once in all of his years growing up had he seen his mother appear so motionless.

_How the fuck could something like this happen?_

Regrets were piling up, throttled by the guilt he was feeling over his years overseas fighting in a war that had accomplished little but further damage to his own psyche. He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes, his throat growing hot and tight with the urge to sob, and he clenched his hands at his sides, trying to fight it back.

He felt a warm hand on his forearm, and he turned to see that the nurse who often accompanied Donovan had come up by his side. She was looking up at him, offering a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry,” she told him softly. “Donovan is the best heart surgeon on the West Coast. Your mom is going to be okay. I can tell that she is a strong woman.” Her smile deepened, and Cloud swallowed his tears back carefully.

“T-thanks,” he managed in response.

“The surgery should only be about four hours, but might take a little longer since the doctor will be doing some additional work on her arteries. You and your girlfriend should try to get some rest. We will call you as soon as she’s done.”

At that, Cloud nodded, letting one last look linger on his mother before he turned away and returned to the vestibule where Tifa waited, his skull pounding with terror.

* * *

The sun had long ago set when Cloud and Tifa finally left the hospital. They had spent the entire day there, their muscles growing sore from sitting on the stiff benches as they waited for Claudia’s surgery to finish and then for the opportunity to finally see her.

The procedure had taken just under five hours, ending sometime after noon. 

“Your mother’s procedure was a success,” Donovan had informed him when he found Cloud in the waiting room outside of the cardiac wing again, Cloud instantly at his feet when the older doctor approached. “But she needs to rest for a bit before I permit any visitors. And I am keeping her sedated for at least another day, until she is stabilized.”

Cloud only nodded, hanging his head and swearing inwardly when he sank back into his chair, Tifa taking his hand in hers again as soon as he sat back down.

A couple of hours later, after they’d spent most of the day leaning into each other and holding hands, blankly watching the daytime television that played on the overhead screens, scrolling through their phones and eating bland hospital cafeteria food, the nurse finally reappeared to tell Cloud he had been permitted to see his mother. He’d instantly grown angry when she told him that Tifa, who was not family, was not allowed.

“She’s my girlfriend,” he’d bit out nastily, causing Tifa to look down at her shoes. “I’m bringing her with me no matter what you people say.”

The nurse clearly hadn’t expected that level of outburst from him, because she simply nodded, her eyes wide, and led them both to Claudia’s chamber.

His mother had been hooked up to machines and still heavily sedated, but she was laid comfortably in the bed, blankets tucked around her, her blonde hair loose again around her shoulders. Her breathing was even and steady, and Cloud had taken a seat beside her, holding her hand, while Tifa sat beside him and held onto his arm, and they both sat and quietly kept Claudia Strife company for hours while she rested, the two most important women in his world at his side until the nurse came and gently told them that visiting hours were over.

Now, Cloud drove with Tifa silent at his side, his head beginning to pound as his mind played the events of the last few days over and over again in his head. He thought further back, to leaving Breckenridge when he was eighteen, leaving his mother alone for six years to fight in the desert in the middle of a war that he really never truly understood, only to see some of his closest friends killed, blown to bits in a film reel that sometimes played out in an endless loop in the front of his vision. He thought about how his mother would call him and ask him what he was doing with his life, if he was still writing, if he was thinking about going to college, or at least maybe picking up a few classes or learning a trade. But Cloud never had an answer for her, because once he’d left the army, his life had become completely aimless. He was set on a trajectory that was going no fucking where and fast.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he thought about it, over and over again.

“Are you okay?” Tifa was asking him for the hundredth fucking time.

“Do I look fucking okay?” he suddenly snapped, so caught up in his own thoughts that he spoke without thinking, and instantly he regretted it, slamming against the back of the driver’s seat as they approached a stoplight. Tifa flinched visibly at his reaction, turning away quickly to face the passenger side window.

_Fuck fuck fuck you dumbass._

“I’m sorry,” Tifa whispered after a moment as Cloud continued to curse himself, and he realized with horror that her voice had cracked as if she were about to cry.

“No,” he pleaded, shaking his head out, wincing at the pain in his skull. “ _I’m_ sorry, Tifa. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… this is a lot to take in, and I can’t get out of my head. I’m sorry.”

He was staring out of the front windshield at the red traffic light, afraid to look at her, but he could feel her intense crimson stare burning on his cheek. A moment passed, and he felt her hand drop to the top of his thigh.

“It’s okay,” she told him, and finally, he looked back at her. “You need to clear your head, Cloud. You have a lot on your mind. Maybe we should go somewhere and get some air. We were cooped up in that hospital all day long today.”

Cloud thought about this, still waiting for the light to change. It was cold as hell tonight, but a change of scenery might be nice, especially if it helped him air out the cobwebs and the lightning bolts that were dismantling his brain.

“Did you have something in mind?” he asked her, just as the light changed.

“Let’s drive up into the mountains,” she suggested quietly.

Cloud glanced over at her, catching her smiling at him, the sting from his earlier words evaporated from her irises. 

“Really, Tifa?”

She nodded, her face brightening with her smile, and Cloud shrugged and made for the highway that climbed deep into the Rockies, up along its periwinkle peaks that towered above the town.

They drove in silence for a while; it was at least a forty-minute drive from Highway 9 until they reached the Boreas Pass, which led deep into some of the most scenic routes that were tucked along the cliff faces. As they ascended, Tifa’s face was pressed almost flat against the glass as she looked out of the window, admiring the snowy peaks and fields and the glittering night sky, sights that Cloud knew she hadn’t seen in a decade. But his own mind was still mired in his own failures and the bleak forecast of his future, and the longer he thought about everything, including Tifa, who was so forgiving and supportive and beautiful and kind and too fucking good for him, the more he felt like maybe he was going to fuck all of this up.

Thinking back on the way he’d so suddenly lost his temper with her just a short while ago, it seemed that he already had begun to.

He was trying to reconcile that miserable thought when he heard Tifa gasp a little, and she was pointing out of the window.

“Look, Cloud. There’s a bluff over there with a nice view of the entire mountain range, and the stars. Can you pull over and park?”

He shrugged, pulling the steering wheel to the right. His mother’s car had four-wheel-drive and was built for withstanding the kinds of rough conditions that were found in the mountains. With a few bumpy maneuvers, Cloud steered the vehicle off-road onto the ground that was covered with a thin layer of firmly packed snow. The tires crunched as he drove, rocks and dirt beneath the snow protesting against the weight of the car.

They soon reached the edge of the bluff, and Cloud stopped the car a safe distance away, putting the sedan into park but leaving the engine to rumble, keeping the inside of the car warm as the heat blasted out of the vents. He stared ahead, drinking in the wide-open landscape, a backdrop of black sky that was painted with blue and white stars, the moon a crescent-shaped beacon in one corner of the sky. The mountains were jutting, snow-capped purple peaks that splashed across the expanse in the center, littered with dark trees that had mostly all lost their leaves. Cloud could see the twinkling lights embedded in the ski resorts and cabins that were nestled along the mountains in the distance, emitting warm glows into a colorful but otherwise dark and cold scene.

“It’s so beautiful,” Tifa breathed next to him, unbuckling her seatbelt, and Cloud turned to look, catching the perfect profile of her pale face, highlighted by the moonlight. She leaned forward toward the windshield, staring up at the sky and the view in front of them. He felt his lips drop open, and he started to say something in response, but Tifa was pushing the door open, running out and away from the car, and Cloud found himself watching her hips sway before he snapped out of it and tore off his own seatbelt in a daze.

“Tifa, wait!”

He pushed out of the car, leaving the engine running, and ran up behind her. She had stopped a few feet away from the edge of the bluff where it overlooked a sharp dive into a jagged, dark crevasse hundreds of feet below. It was bitingly cold up here, Cloud realized, much, much colder than it had been in the valleys where the town was located, and instantly he could feel the wind pierce him like knives through his motorcycle jacket. He stopped a few feet behind Tifa, the cold air throwing shards of glass into his lungs, Cloud watching as the wind picked up her long dark hair and whipped it around her shoulders.

He stared at the back of her body, admiring her from afar, tipping his head to one side and wondering how she wasn’t freezing where she stood. She’d worn another one of those goddamn tight sweater dresses she was so fond of - this one a dark, slate gray - her legs wrapped in thick black thigh-high leggings and her feet tucked into fur-trimmed gray boots that matched her dress. She was wearing her black peacoat, but it fit her so well that he could see the outline of her entire shape, including the rise and curve of her ass where his eyes were currently hovering.

He couldn’t understand why Tifa had dressed so fashionably just for them to spend the day in a hospital, while he had only managed to pull on a pair of jeans and a plain black long sleeve thermal over his undershirt.

“The moon is such a perfect crescent,” Tifa remarked, her words carried away by the crisp winter gales. “It reminds me of the earrings that my next-door neighbor, Marle, gave me for Christmas one year. Too bad I lost one of them.”

_Fuck._

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck, feeling it grow hot as he thought about her earring that was still hidden away in his bedroom drawer back in New York.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Tifa was speaking again, still facing away from him and staring out at the sprawling western view in the stretch of miles beyond them, the night sky so clear that he almost could reach out and pluck one of the stars out of the sky, they seemed so near.

“Cloud,” she began, her voice much softer now. “The stars… Do you think they can hear us? Do you think they can see how hard everything has been for us?”

Cloud shrugged in response, even though she wasn’t facing him to see. Girls said the silliest shit sometimes, and he really didn’t know how to respond to that. 

But she went on. “Cloud… no matter how close we are… We were far apart before this. I’m sorry.”

Cloud frowned, running his fingers through his hair before crossing his arms again. Why the fuck was she always apologizing? 

“Sorry for what, Tifa?” he asked her softly, taking a step closer to her.

She turned a little, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “I… I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff, in my own problems… I haven’t really been there for you the way I should have been.”

Cloud tossed his head. Why was she blaming herself for the shit he brought on himself? 

“What are you talking about, Teef? You abandoned your job and came all the way to Colorado for me.”

He heard her sniff, and the sound made his body grow rigid with panic. “No, I know, Cloud. But before this. I… I should have been there for you before this. I always talk about my problems and you always listen, but I realize I haven’t been very encouraging of you, that I haven’t paid attention to the things that were bothering you. Like… the war. It’s not fair.”

Cloud closed the distance between them, dropping his hands to her shoulders. She leaned back against him, and Cloud could see the faint line of a teardrop across her cheek, already shimmering as the frigid air froze it over on her skin.

“Tifa… that’s my fault. I don’t know how to talk about what I’m feeling sometimes. The army… I told you, it fucked me up. And I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, and I feel like a fuck up, and like I let my mom down, and I’m not good enough for you and - “

He was cut off when Tifa turned and lunged toward him, running into him until she was leaning up and pressing her lips against his in a deep, wet kiss, stealing his words away and silencing him. Cloud felt the heat race through his entire body from the point of contact of their lips, chasing the cold away that was stinging him through his clothing every time the wind changed directions.

Her arms were around his neck and her tongue was sliding against his, its movements gentle as if she were trying to calm him through the connection of their mouths. He groaned against the sensation, wrapping his arms around her tight, his palms pressing her into his body against her upper back.

She pulled away from him after a moment, tiny puffs of white air forming between them as their warm breaths greeted the frosty temperatures. Cloud’s eyes slid to half lids as he looked down at Tifa, crashing him into her dark, wine-colored gaze.

She brought her hand up to his cheek. “It’s okay, Cloud,” she whispered. “Words aren’t the only way to tell someone what you’re thinking.”

Cloud smiled at her, a genuine smile, but she was soon kissing him again, her hands now traveling his body, sliding past his jacket and under his shirt, her fingertips cold on his skin. He jumped a little at the sensation, then pulled his lips away from her, carding his fingers through her hair.

“Um, Teef?” he breathed against her lips, finding them wet and swollen. “Can we, uh, move this to the car? It’s freezing out here.”

Tifa grinned at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the backseat of the car. She climbed in first, leaving an airy giggle in her wake, tearing her coat off as she moved. Cloud couldn’t stop himself from staring at her ass when she bent over to climb over the seat.

The interior was still warm when he climbed inside, the engine quietly humming in the front of the car. He tossed his jacket into the front seat, and as soon as he closed the door behind him and settled into the backseat, Tifa was climbing over his lap, straddling him and dropping her hands to his cheeks as she kissed him again, bending down low to avoid hitting her head on the roof of the car.

Cloud felt a hot thrill run through his body as he settled in and let Tifa kiss him passionately, her tongue twisting around his and forcing him to curl his toes in his boots. His arms fell around her waist, and his hands began to wander, exploring the firm, smooth warmth of her waist under her dress, running over the full curve of her rear and finding her thighs, smoothing them over and squeezing them gently, pulling at the hem of her thigh highs and letting them snap back against her skin. She leaned in even closer, and soon she was pulling her lips away from his with a suck as the dropped to lay kisses against the side of his neck, Cloud groaning as he pressed her closer to his body, her breasts soft against his chest.

Cloud suddenly felt like they were a pair of teenagers who had snuck off in one of their parent’s car to lose their virginity together, and he realized, as Tifa widened her thighs, her skirt riding up almost to her waist, that they had never had the chance when they _actually_ were teenagers to do anything like this.

Tifa was rotating her hips on him, a clear sign that she wanted more from him and also a surefire way to guarantee his erection would sear his brain with pain. She mewled as her tongue traveled his neck, alternating between licks and sucks before she lifted her lips to nip and kiss at his jaw.

Cloud dragged one hand away from where it had been holding her waist to drop it between her thighs, first flirting with their insides before letting his fingers find her center, the cotton shielding her arousal already hot and damp. Finding her eager for him, he slid two fingers over the fabric, drawing a back and forth motion that had her spreading further and mewling against his throat. He could feel her clit, already hard, and he pressed down on it, Tifa responding by biting into the flesh at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Cloud,” she purred, and he realized she was shivering in his embrace as if they were still outside in the cold.

He continued to let his fingers rub her through her underwear, soaking her further, knowing that it was just enough to make her crazy but never enough to drive her over the edge. He basked in the sound of his name pouring from her lips, tipping his head back against the seat as she ground her hips over him.

She was answering his teasing rubs by keening and assaulting the tender skin of his throat with her mouth, her lips and tongue needy and seeking. And then she dropped one hand to the button of his jeans between them, unzipping him with a shaky hand as she maneuvered to free his erection until it stood straight and tall in her palm. Cloud didn’t try to stop her, just let her begin to palm him in her fist, answering her touches by drawing circles over her clit through the thin fabric, making her whimper his name again into his jaw.

As a hot wave of pleasure coursed through his brain at the warm, soft touch of her hand on his skin, Cloud realized that they were playing a game with each other, a slow, agonizing contest of trying to see who could break who down first, which of them could destroy each other’s defenses the fastest. Feeling his mouth drop open when she squeezed him, precum leaking all over her hand as he writhed beneath her, Cloud became determined to win this battle.

Deftly, he slid her underwear out of the way, curling his two fingers against her wet seam, Tifa releasing a gasp at the sensation. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to watch her unravel completely under his touch, to hear her cry out and beg and plead. His fingers flicked casually over her nub, earning a quick gasp from the back of her throat, before he glided one finger to her entrance, probing into her with a slow gentleness that had her squeezing his cock tighter with one hand and pinching his shoulder with the other. 

“Fuck,” he swore, loving the feeling of this gentle penetration on his fingers, the way its slow agony made her walls flutter in desperation for more, for fullness, the way it made her wind her hips harder and faster, the way it made her breath heavier as if she had just come from one of her runs in Prospect Park.

Her hand was unsteady on his cock now, and he knew that he was winning this war. Keeping a finger inside of her, he lifted his thumb to flick and rub at her clit, initiating a slow, tortuous pattern that was unpredictable and hit her nerves from every angle he could find. He felt Tifa drip over him, and soon her mewls became bright, her voice high as she begged.

“Cloud, please,” she whined right against his ear, and he couldn’t stop the way that he trembled in response, her breath hot on his flesh as she clenched down on his finger. “Why do you do this to me? It feels so good… please, Cloud… oh… why…”

“Because,” he growled back at her, so turned on by her words he was afraid this might backfire and he might actually end up coming all over her hand where he remained still but gripped tightly in her soft palm. “I love you. And I love seeing you come. Look at me.”

Tifa made a strangled sound before she lifted her face away from where she’d dropped it to his shoulder again, looking up to meet his eyes. Cloud could see those ruby red orbs glassed over, her pupils wide, her makeup smeared and wet. Her lips were parted, and the look on her face was one that was deep in pure, ardent pleasure.

“I know what you like, Tifa,” he whispered to her, still holding her gaze as his thumb began an up and down stroke of her clit, pressing down firmly on it. “Tell me you like how that feels.”

“I love it,” she cried instead, and Cloud smiled at her desperation, rubbing her until she wept and sputtered and came all over his fingers, her walls clenching him tight, her thighs trembling, her fingers pulling at his shoulder and her center leaking all over him, his name a wail on her tongue.

He’d won.

She was too delirious to focus on his own arousal anymore, so he pulled her hand away from his dick and gently pushed her off of his lap, carefully laying her down across the backseat. Her hair fell in a dark spill around her, and with the moonlight filtering in from the window above, she looked angelically beautiful.

Cloud wasted no time sliding his pants and underwear down to his knees, hiking Tifa’s skirt fully up to her waist. He didn’t even bother with her panties, just making sure they were still fully swept to one side before he kneeled between her thighs on the backseat and took himself in hand, carefully sliding inside of her.

She was so slippery and wet that there was no resistance at all, and she pulled her legs back, wrapping them tight and high around his waist. He smiled at her in the darkness when he felt his tip poke against her farthest wall, prompting her to wince and then moan, her face contorting as he found her spot. She pulled him in close, her lips greeting his for a light but wet kiss that was all lips and the tips of their tongues, Cloud laying on top of her as he began to drive his hips into hers in a steady but quick rhythm that had her yelling his name within seconds.

With the exacting and severe pace he was setting inside of her, it wasn’t long before Tifa splintered apart, her walls a vice around his length as she cried her orgasm into his ear, her legs and arms holding him tight. Cloud watched her the entire time, memorizing the color of her eyes and the shape of her mouth and the set of her jaw and every line of her face as she came, before he lowered his head to her shoulder and pistoned himself to his own release.

When they were both spent, Cloud collapsed all of his weight on top of her, unable to move, both their bodies now boneless and lined with sheens of sweat. It was silent aside from the sounds of their heavy breathing and their heartbeats crashing through their chests. After a moment, Tifa looped her arms around his neck again, her fingers toying with the hair at the back of his neck in the way that always turned him into jelly in her arms.

“That was so good, Teef,” he told her, and she responded by sighing affirmatively.

“ _You’re_ so good, Cloud,” she finally replied, catching her breath after a moment.

Cloud grinned, kissing her cheek and catching the moonlight shining on her skin. Still in the intoxicating euphoria of their shared bliss, Cloud felt himself thinking of something, his lips moving even as he felt his cheeks begin to warm.

“Hey, Teef.”

“Hm?”

“Your crescent moon earring…” he looked down at her sheepishly. “I found it. At the hotel, on New Year’s. And… uh… I kept it. I have it.”

Tifa’s eyes widened, and the smile on her face began to widen. “What?”

“I also took your underwear.”

“Cloud!” she chided him, but they soon began to both laugh, their lungs expanding and expelling air, Cloud able to feel every movement of her body as they giggled like teenagers against one another in the backseat of his mother’s car.

“Cloud?” she was whispering below him once their glee had died down.

“Hm, Teef?”

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear, now stroking his scalp gently. “Anything you ever need from me… I will give you.”

Cloud lifted his head from her shoulder to look into her eyes, finding her scarlet pools misty and wet. His lips spread into a smile as the warmth folded over him once again.

“I love you too, Teef,” he vowed. “And I’m always here for you, too. I promise.”

Without waiting for another word to be said, Cloud squeezed her beneath him, dropping his lips to hers for another chaste kiss that set off fireworks between them.

_Fuck, yes._

_Finally._

_Peace._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I appreciate your feedback. Come hang out with me on twitter @nitezintodreamz 💜💫💋


	9. Free Ourselves From Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd we're back!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I apologize in advance for its length, but I really didn't want to increase the chapter count again. 
> 
> Like most of the chapters in this fic, this chapter takes its title from a lyric in The Midnight song, 'Last Train'.
> 
> I want to shout Spaceodementia out for her amazing beta work on this as always and for catching all kinds of dumb mistakes and making sure this was coherent. PLUS I LOVE HER SHE'S JUST THE BEST Y'ALL.
> 
> Also! I have to SCREAM at my girl @calytrixie for commissioning this GORGEOUS AMAZING fanart for this fic from the fantastically talented @perlmuttt!!! This art is from a scene near the end of Chapter 3. [Go check it out here](https://twitter.com/calytrixie/status/1334589107633319945?s=20) and then scream at both of them on Twitter!!! Love you Caly 💜
> 
> Thanks to everyone once again for your comments and your love on Twitter. This fandom is the best!!!

Last Train to Brooklyn

* * *

Chapter Nine 

Free Ourselves From Gravity

“Mr. Strife?” 

Cloud looked up from where he had been leaning against the armrest of a plastic chair in the cardiac wing’s waiting area, his chin in his hand. It was late into the afternoon two days after Claudia’s surgery, and Cloud and Tifa had visited her each day, only to find that Dr. Donovan was still cautiously keeping her in a state of sedation, allowing her body to heal. Today, they had arrived earlier that morning when Donovan called to inform Cloud that he was ready to awaken Claudia again. They had been waiting all morning for clearance to finally visit her, and Cloud’s nerves were bunched up and frayed all along the insides of his limbs.

Tifa had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, her phone gripped tightly in one hand. At the sound of his name, Cloud sat up straight, gently nudging her until she opened her eyes with a yawn. She blinked, sitting up fully, and Cloud looked up to see that Donovan’s surgical nurse - her name was Emilia, Cloud had learned - was standing over them with a clipboard and a smile.

“Y-yeah?” he began, and Tifa dropped her hand to his knee.

“Great news,” Emilia greeted. “Your mother is awake, and she is doing quite well. You can see her now.”

Cloud exhaled, and he felt Tifa’s hand squeeze his knee. He pushed up to his feet slowly, his heart thundering in his chest. Tifa was close at his heels, and she took his hand in hers, looking up at him with a smile, her scarlet eyes wistful when they met. Looking down into them, Cloud felt an aura of calmness wash over him, and he nodded, walking hand in hand with her down the hall behind the nurse.

He had to admit that his heart was centered in his throat as he walked through the hallways, his palm beginning to sweat against Tifa’s, the fluorescent lighting of the hospital suddenly too bright, the sounds of the doctors and nurses pushing gurneys through the halls and the beeps of equipment suddenly too loud. His mind was still clogged with fear, despite the fact that he had been given every indication that his mother’s surgery went well and that she was okay. The truth of the matter was that the past week, while he had found serenity and peace in Tifa’s arms, he truly hadn’t been able to completely shake the worry that gripped him over his mother’s condition. This anxiety continued to live inside of him no matter how hard he worked with Tifa through their brief reprieve of domestic bliss to shove it away.

They rounded a corner and were soon at Claudia’s door, the nurse pushing it open, while Cloud felt like his esophagus was stuffed with cotton. His throat was suddenly stiff and dry, and he swallowed painfully, Tifa’s hand squeezing his as she followed behind him, knowing the apprehension that was tearing through him.

Sunlight was streaming in thick bands from the twin windows in the room, the blinds pulled up high to let the rays in. Flowers lined the sill, colorful arrangements that Cloud guessed must have been gifted from his mother’s friends and coworkers in town. Dr. Donovan was already in the room, alongside another female doctor in a white lab coat. 

Cloud followed behind Nurse Emilia, who stepped out of the way, off to the side to inspect some of the equipment by Claudia’s bedside. As she moved, Cloud turned and let his eyes fall to the bed in the center of the room, finding his mother sitting up, square in the midst of its blankets.

She was smiling, and her eyes were the brightest, deepest royal blue, a color he hadn’t seen in so long. They were even darker than his own, and he realized that he had been separated from his mother for too many stretches of time over the course of the last six years. Watching as her lips turned up and her smile deepened, Cloud felt the pang of guilt return as he realized how long it had been since he had last seen that look on her face, and how close he had come to losing it forever.

When their eyes met, Claudia shifted a little in the bed, sitting up straighter, her loose blond hair fluttering around her shoulders. Cloud thought that she had never looked prettier.

“Cloud!” she exclaimed, and instantly, Cloud was running to her.

Without thinking, he tossed himself into her arms across the bed, and hers were instantly around him as she laughed joyously. Behind him, Tifa remained a pace back, holding her purse in front of her body as she watched with a smile. Cloud realized he was crying elatedly against his mother’s neck, and when he felt her laugh again, he pulled back and tried to gather his composure, wiping his eyes with the inside of his wrist.

“Mom,” he trilled. “I was so worried about you.”

His mother smiled up at him as he sat on the edge of her bed, facing her, and she lifted her palm to his cheek, cupping it gently and giving him a little pat. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to be alright.”

At this, Donovan cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“Cloud,” he began, and he lifted his hand to the curly-haired, brown-skinned doctor who stood at his left. “This is Dr. Lisa Chowdury. She is your mother’s primary care physician.”

Cloud just nodded, and Claudia made every effort to sit up even straighter.

Donovan was looking at her now. “Mrs. Strife, as we discussed earlier, your continued health is going to be contingent on your willingness to follow certain nutrition and medical regimens, and to adhere to the recommendations of your doctor,” he gestured to Dr. Chowdury, who nodded in agreement.

“Of course,” Claudia replied, and Cloud looked at her, a barrage of questions beginning to surface in his mind.

Would he need to watch over his mother and take care of her?

Would he have to move back to Colorado?

What would he do for work?

What about Tifa?

At that last thought, he turned behind him to find Tifa still standing a few feet away, holding her purse in both hands, and when their eyes met, she offered him a small but sunny smile.

Tepidly, Cloud returned it, turning back to his mother and then to the doctors. Suddenly, a whole new set of anxieties were lodging themselves into the ridges of his brain. 

“Mrs. Strife,” Dr. Chowdury was speaking next, her voice colored with the remnants of a West Indian accent. “As we discussed before, it is important that you keep up with the medication that I prescribe to you for your condition. You will also be required to follow a strict nutrition and exercise plan. But there is no reason that any of this should interrupt your normal daily routine or life.”

“I understand,” Claudia responded. “I do.”

She turned to Cloud, offering him a knowing smile, and she reached over to take his hand and offer it a squeeze.

“Vitals look good,” Donovan interjected. “The surgery was quite successful, no significant issues to report. Dr. Chowdury and I think it’s wise to keep you for one more night for monitoring, but tomorrow, you’ll be ready to go home.”

Cloud felt his heart begin to clench tight in his chest.

“Thank you,” Claudia replied, but Cloud realized she was looking at him, and not the doctors.

They went on for a bit longer about Claudia’s condition and the precautions that she needed to take, including how her pacemaker functioned and how working with a medicinal and nutritional plan, she could continue to live a healthy and active life. Dr. Chowdury advised her that they would begin regular, consistent checkups to monitor her cardiac health over the course of the next six months, and that after that, they could begin to loosen the reigns, as long as she seemed to be improving. Despite the trepidation that had catapulted inside of him again, these words made Cloud feel a little more at ease.

Eventually, the doctors and the nurse left, leaving Cloud and Tifa alone with his mother. He released a heavy sigh, still holding his mother’s hand when Claudia leaned over and began to grin brightly.

“Tifa Lockhart?” she asked, and Cloud sat back on the bed and turned, realizing he had never bothered to introduce Tifa or announce her presence since they’d arrived.

He watched Tifa blush, before she shyly took a few steps closer to the bed, tucking her dark hair behind one ear. “Yes, that’s me,” she replied softly. “I’m so glad you’re doing better, Mrs. Strife.”

“Please,” Claudia waved with a laugh. “Just call me Claudia, sweetheart. And I am so glad to see you. Cloud talked so much about you, about reuniting with you in New York City. I just think it’s so romantic! He used to have such a crush on you when he was a kid, you know.”

“Mom!” Cloud cried, his cheeks instantly on fire. Claudia only laughed, shaking her head from side to side. He heard Tifa giggle next to him, and then she dropped her hand to his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze, which did nothing to alleviate the way his flesh burned right off of his face.

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Cloud,” his mother chided him. “Anyway, you’ve grown to become so beautiful, Tifa. Just like your mother. She would be very proud.”

“Thank you,” Tifa answered, and Cloud saw her cheeks darken even further, too.

Claudia let out a little sigh, dropping her head back against her pillow. At the sound, Cloud turned to her.

“Mom, I was really scared,” he began, almost embarrassed to admit this out loud, but somehow feeling safe in the presence of the two women he loved more than anything else, including his own life. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Why didn’t you follow the doctor’s directions when you first were diagnosed?”

Claudia sighed again, turning her gaze to the window, her eyes a little misty and wistful. She seemed to be far away for a moment, before she turned back to Cloud, taking his hand in hers again and squeezing it gently. “I didn’t want you to worry, sweetheart,” she told him. “And… well, it was difficult for me to come to terms with it, at first. I didn’t really believe it. I thought I was too young. I’ve always been active. It just didn’t make any sense. I was in the process of finding a second opinion when this happened.”

Cloud looked down at his mother’s hand, covering his. She _was_ young, only in her mid-forties. Even her hands were still young, her skin smooth and stretched relatively tight over her knuckles. He thought it was terribly, cruelly unfair that she had to go through this, that her enjoyment and regular routine of life had to be disrupted at such a young age, especially after everything else she had gone through in her life. With his father walking out on her before he was born, with her raising him as a single mother and giving up on her own dreams so that she could sometimes work two jobs to keep him happy and fed with a roof over his head, he realized nothing about life had ever been fair to Claudia Strife.

And she’d never complained about it, ever. Not once.

“Do you need me to stay with you?” Cloud blurted impulsively, covering her hand with his so that hers was sandwiched between both of his. “I can move back to Breckenridge.”

He felt Tifa stiffen at his side, turning slightly to face him again. He hadn’t mentioned or discussed any of this with her, it all came rolling over his tongue without him thinking about it, knowing that it was time for him to start stepping up, no matter the sacrifice.

But his mother was waving her hand in the air. “Absolutely not,” she responded dismissively. “One thing I will _not_ have is anyone, especially not my twenty-four-year-old son, hovering around me like I’m some kind of invalid.” She gave him a stern look, but Cloud saw the smirk on her lips. “Besides, you heard the doctors. As long as I stay on top of my medicine and my health, I will be fine.”

“But mom,” Cloud pouted, and Claudia held up her hand.

“No, Cloud. I won’t have you uprooting your entire life just for me, either. I’ll be perfectly happy if you just come to visit me more.” She offered him another smile, leaning forward a little toward him on the bed. “Besides, how do you think Tifa would feel if you left her all alone in New York?”

Cloud looked down at his hands, feeling his face warm again as if he were standing in front of an open flame. He heard Tifa laugh at his side, her voice carrying that rich, deep cadence that he loved so much.

“I wouldn’t mind moving back to Colorado, to be honest,” she replied, and for whatever reason, this had her and Claudia both laughing together, while Cloud’s heart began to pound at the idea that Tifa would pick up everything and move for him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Claudia finally said after her laughter had died down. “I will be fine, guys. I have lots of friends in town who will look after me. Linda only lives a couple of blocks away.”

Cloud turned to his mother once again, something sharpening into resolve inside of him. “Okay, mom. But you have to promise me that you’ll do everything that your doctor says, and if you ever need me, you’ll call me right away.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Promise me, mom.”

Claudia’s smile deepened as her dark blue eyes connected with her son’s, twin pairs of oceanic pools that were dusted with starlight. She nodded.

“I promise, Cloud.”

With that, Cloud leaned forward over the bed again and enveloped his mother in a tight hug, Claudia laughing lightly and happily as she held him back.

And Cloud’s eyes misted over a little when he felt the soft warmth against his back, realizing that Tifa had sat behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and that she was holding him, too.

* * *

It was two days later when Cloud and Tifa stood in his mother’s living room with their carry-on bags in front of them, hovering by the door but still hesitant to leave. It had now been a full week since Tifa had followed him to Colorado, a full week since he’d learned that his mother might die, a full week where he had torn through so many rollercoasters of emotions it was a wonder his _own_ heart hadn’t given out.

Claudia had been released from the hospital the day after the doctors had pulled her from her sedation, as promised, and at present, she sat in front of Cloud on the living room couch, blankets pulled around her. She had lost weight during the entire ordeal; he could see it in the gauntness in her cheeks. But other than that, she was almost completely back to her normal self. Her hair was pulled up high into its characteristic ponytail, the one that Cloud had seen her sport for as long as he could remember, her thick, parted bangs spilling to either side of her face. Her cheeks had recaptured their rosy glow, the same faint pink undertones that matched his own pale skin. Her eyes were sparkling again, bright blue beacons that lit up and danced every time she laughed. Her movements were no longer quite as stiff, and already she had committed to walking daily with Linda Peterson to keep her blood flow going and her heart pumping steadily.

Speaking of Linda Peterson, she was also there, sitting across from Claudia on the couch, a cup of tea in hand. Linda was at least a decade older than Claudia, with dark eyes and sandy brown hair that was full gray at the roots. And for whatever reason, she wore so much makeup that even Cloud had to wonder who she was trying to impress.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride to the airport?” his mother asked, and Cloud shook his head vehemently for the third time.

“No, mom,” he answered. “You really shouldn’t be driving yet.”

Claudia was waving a hand in the air. “Stop worrying, sweetie,” she told him. “I’m feeling great.”

“I can always give you a ride,” Linda offered, and Cloud was instantly shaking his head again. After hearing the way that Linda could talk endlessly about absolutely nothing for _hours_ , that was a bad fucking idea.

“N-no, thanks, though. Our rideshare is already on its way.”

It wasn’t much later that their ride did arrive, and Claudia was at her feet, walking Cloud and Tifa to the door. They waved goodbye to Linda, who remained on the couch, and then Cloud hovered by the door, the cold Colorado winds behind him as he stared mournfully at his mother, who was shorter than he was and looked up at him with a sad smile on her face.

“You sure you going to be alright, mom?” he asked her, and he realized with a little bit of horror that his voice was shaking.

She offered him another smile, this time gently pushing on his arm. “I’m going to be fine, Cloud. Just call me when you get back to New York.” She turned to Tifa next, who was still standing right at Cloud’s side, one hand on the handlebar of her suitcase and the other pinning her purse to her hip. “Please, take care of my baby, Tifa.”

“I will,” Tifa promised, beaming.

Cloud felt his face and neck fill with flames all over again, and it was enough to motivate him to get moving finally.

After their final goodbyes, Cloud and Tifa departed in the vehicle that waited for them at the curb, and they both waved through the glass at Claudia, who remained in the doorway until they had completely disappeared from view. Once they had pulled onto the main highway that curved outside of town, Cloud turned around again and faced forward, expelling a heavy sigh and trying to drain some of the nervous energy that continued to course through his limbs at the thought of leaving his mother alone again.

As if sensing his distress, he felt a sudden warmth on his bicep, and he looked across the backseat to see that Tifa was smiling at him, her hand on his upper arm.

“Are you okay?” she asked him softly, barely audible over the roll of the car’s tires on the highway.

He let his eyes hook into hers for a moment, finding eternal pools of calm in those sierra-red depths. His heartbeat slowed a little, and he felt his breath escape in slow, even puffs. He found himself returning her smile with sudden ease, as if he had just become lighter looking into her eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathed in response, crossing his arm over his chest so that he could capture her hand in his where it rested on his bicep. “I’m okay.”

Within the next two hours, Cloud found himself crowding onto another aircraft that was headed directly to LaGuardia Airport this time. It was early afternoon in Denver, which meant it would be deep into the late evening hours by the time they returned to New York.

He was seated in a middle row seat beside Tifa near the plane’s wing, Tifa seated at the window, looking out with her earbuds already on. With his laptop balanced on his lap, Cloud immediately felt cramped, but especially so when a man who smelled strongly of nicotine and coffee took the aisle seat beside him.

“Pardon me,” the man drawled with a Northern Texas accent. Cloud was familiar with it; many Southerners from the Lone Star State had often migrated northwest to Colorado.

The man - blond-haired and blue-eyed with a thick, five o’clock shadow - made a big show of stuffing his oversized carry-on into the bin overhead, tossing expletives every five seconds until a flight attendant actually had to come over and gently ask him to stop. He glared at her, then pulled his scarf from his throat and thumped his way into his seat beside Cloud, almost choking him with the scent of cigarette smoke that was embedded into every layer of his leather bomber jacket.

“I hate flying commercial,” the man complained in Cloud’s direction. Cloud only shrugged; the last thing he wanted was to get roped into a conversation with a stranger. Instantly, he began to fish through his pockets, looking for his own earbuds, dismayed when he couldn’t immediately locate them.

The jet was soon taxiing off of the runway, but the man beside him wasn’t relenting in conversation. In fact, their ascent into the sky only seemed to spur him on.

“I fly my own planes,” the man informed him. “Try not to fly commercial unless I absolutely have to. Unfortunately, trying to take a Cessna to the East Coast from out here ain’t exactly the most goddamn practical thing. ’Sides, my wife made me fly with United today. Had some traveler miles or something that she wanted to use up. You know how women are.”

Cloud stared straight ahead at the seat in front of him, hoping that if he didn’t answer, this would stop. He glanced at Tifa for help, but she had already dozed off with her face pressed to the glass.

The man leaned forward in his seat, glancing at her over Cloud’s lap. He let out a brief whistle, and Cloud turned to him with a sharp glare.

“Speaking of,” he went on. “That one yours?”

“Yeah,” Cloud growled, but the man only laughed, backing away a little at the way that Cloud turned in the tight seat to face him.

“Relax, young blood,” the older man guffawed. “She’s too young for me, and I got a wife. An annoying ass one, but I got one nonetheless. Never hurt anybody to admire.” He shrugged his shoulder roughly against Cloud’s, and Cloud was really about to start swearing. 

The man was offering him his palm, though. “Cid Highwind.”

Cloud just shook his head, not really wanting to entertain this fuckery right now. Where were his goddamn headphones?

“…Cloud Strife,” he finally conceded, shaking Cid’s hand limply, before turning away to his laptop again, booting up the open word document he had been working on for the last six months.

“Hm,” Cid chuckled, sitting back. “What’s bringing you out to New York?”

“I live there,” Cloud couldn’t have replied more straightforwardly.

“Ah,” Cid responded. “You look more like a Western kid than one of them slick city boys.” Cloud tried not to turn to look at him, knowing that his glare would be nasty. Unfortunately, Cid went on.

“I’m headin’ out there for the big hearing,” Cid informed him without being asked. “I’ll be testifyin’.” 

“Hearing?” Cloud repeated.

Cid turned to him again, and every time he moved, the waft of cigarette smoke assaulted Cloud again.

“Boy, don’t you keep up with the news?” Cid demanded. “The Shinra financial scandal. That company ain’t nothing but a bunch of snake oil salesmen and crooks. They got me good, ‘bout ten years ago. Swindled me and a bunch of other investors out of millions of fuckin’ dollars. That was money I had put away to invest in the private space industry. Was gonna open my own goddamn exploration company. I’m an aeronautical engineer, you know. And my wife, Shera, works for NASA. We had big plans, back in those days. And then, one day, all of our savings, all our money was gone in a goddamn pyramid scheme.”

Cloud finally turned to look at him, dumbfounded. 

“Forget Elon Musk,” Cid said bitterly. “The private space industry shoulda been associated with Cid Highwind.”

Cloud thought about this, turning away uncomfortably. He glanced over at Tifa, still sleeping at his side, facing the window. He didn’t know a whole lot about white-collar crime and the kind of financial misconduct that Shinra was accused of, but it unnerved him and got under his skin a little bit to know that their behavior had real impacts on real people and not just corporations, if this man’s experiences were any indication.

“S-sorry,” Cloud found himself stammering.

Cid just shrugged, settling into his seat. Cloud watched him close his eyes, folding his hands over his chest.

“What’s done is done, kid,” he muttered. “Hopefully, there’ll be some justice.” 

Cloud shrugged, but he realized that Cid had opened his eyes again and was looking at him.

“I might have given up too easy, now that it’s all said and done,” Cid mused. “I never wanted to regret not having done something later, but here I am. But you - you’re still young.” He glanced at Cloud’s laptop for a moment, then turned to lay back with his eyes closed.

“You’re still young,” he repeated. “Don’t ever give up that easily.”

Cloud sat there thinking over his words and considering a reply, but after a moment had passed, he realized that Cid Highwind was snoring beside him.

Cloud dug into his pockets again, finally finding his earbuds in a tangle in the breast pocket of his motorcycle jacket. He put them in, then stared at his laptop’s screen as a stream of symphonic heavy metal poured into his ears.

He wrote for the rest of the flight.

* * *

It was late when Cloud and Tifa finally returned to New York, riding a cab together back to Brooklyn. Tifa had slept the entire flight from Denver, and she was groggy-eyed and silent on their ride home, her phone clutched tight in her hand.

Already, Cloud felt like he was on another side of the planet. The air smelled different, smoggy and fumy, and it was so much darker here in New York than it had been in Colorado, the sky grayed out by pollution. And even though it was just as cold, the winds in the city struck a different chord of frigidity against his flesh, sending a dismal chill into his bones.

Maybe he really wasn’t cut out to be a city boy.

He thought again of his mother, and right away, Cloud fished his phone out to text her to let her know they’d touched down safely. She responded after only a few moments, and Cloud smiled down at her response and at the smiley face she’d attached to her message. 

He deadened his screen and glanced over at Tifa, who was still quiet beside him. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words since they’d arrived, navigating the airport terminals silently at his side with her hand in his. And now, he noticed that her knee began to buckle and sway across the seat, a clear sign that she was filling to the brim with anxiety. It unnerved and upset him.

He thought again to his conversation with the gruff pilot on the plane, about the trouble that Tifa’s father had gotten into and how Tifa had dropped everything without a second thought and followed him straight to Colorado in the midst of all of the chaos transpiring in New York. It poked holes in his heart, knowing that they were returning to the source of all of this unease for her, after she had spent the last week helping him work through his own.

He hated himself for sitting there in that backseat, pouring over his words, unable to find the right fucking ones to share to console her.

Their taxi soon stopped on Sterling Place, and Cloud directed the cabbie to stop on Tifa’s side of the block. When they arrived, pulling their suitcases out of the car, Cloud closed the door to find Tifa staring up at her brownstone, her hands clenched at her sides.

“Tifa?” he called to her gently, his voice chased by the winds.

She shook her head, and he watched her long, raven hair spill around her shoulders. She turned to him, the moonlight highlighting white sparkles across her irises. 

“I can’t,” she said, then winced, shaking her head again. “I… I don’t want to go home yet, Cloud,” she told him. “I just…”

He took a step closer, frantic now to do something to make her feel at ease. But thinking wasn’t helping him any, so he acted.

He took her wrist in his hand. “You want to stay at my place tonight?” he asked her softly.

She looked up at him, and their eyes met. Hers were glittering, like the carats of rubies that had just been cut for fitting in a ring.

“Okay,” she responded.

He nodded, grabbing his suitcase with his free hand and pulling her along, leading her across the street to his apartment. They remained silent as they entered and took the elevator up, Cloud keeping her close to him, hoping that at least their proximity would be some small consolation to her.

Unlocking the door, he hoped to god that Zack hadn’t let the apartment turn into a complete pigsty in his absence. He pushed the door open, finding the apartment completely dark. He looked around, then walked down the hall to find Zack’s room empty, too.

“Looks like it’s just us,” he told Tifa with a shrug.

She finally offered him a small smile. “He’s probably with Aerith. She texted me that he’d been spending the night lately.”

“Perfect,” Cloud responded, and seeing the blush in Tifa’s cheeks and finding her suddenly adorable, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her nose.

“You hungry?” he asked after her cheeks flooded even brighter.

“A little,” she answered.

They ordered Chinese takeout from Cloud’s food delivery app, since naturally, there was no fucking food in the apartment again. It appeared that Zack had halfway moved in with Aerith in the last week, because their place almost appeared abandoned. 

They sat in the living room and ate quietly together, and Cloud didn’t miss the way that Tifa constantly stared down at her phone between bites of her noodles. He wanted to ask her what was going on, if there was anything that he could do to help, but he found himself stagnated, afraid to pry, and he focused on his meal, turning the entire situation over and over in his head.

By the time they finished eating, it was almost eleven, and Tifa was yawning. He let her use the bathroom first, showering after she’d finished, and Cloud was thinking about his next steps now that they’d returned to the city. He would have call his job tomorrow to let them know that he was back and that he was available to pick up shifts again, if they hadn’t decided to fire him during his week-long absence. He needed to also make sure that he checked up on his mom, that she was taking her medication and looking after her health and laying off of the rich foods. And he should probably text Zack and let him know that he was home.

He had no idea what Tifa was going to do.

Still damp from his shower, he found her sitting cross-legged on his bed, wearing a cap-sleeved white t-shirt and white panties and nothing else, her hair still thick in dark wet clumps around her shoulders. She was staring down at her phone in her palms, her thumbs scrolling over the display. Her brow was pinched tight as she looked down at it. His room, which was scarcely decorated, was dim; Tifa’d only left on one small bedside light. Artificial light poured in from the window above the bed, washing her already alabaster skin with a pale, white shimmer.

Cloud resisted the urge to moan at her appearance, closing the door softly behind him. He was dressed only in his boxers, and at the sound of the door shutting, Tifa looked up from her phone, her eyes widening slightly when they dropped from his face to his torso.

Cloud couldn’t avoid the smug swell of pride that welled up along with the heat in his body when he caught the way her eyes fell on him. He crossed the room, crawling across his bed to her, and as soon as he moved in close, he caught the fresh scents of vanilla and jasmine in her skin. Instantly, he was intoxicated and needed her free of distractions. He leaned over her and plucked her phone out of her hands. 

She opened her mouth to protest, but Cloud tossed the phone out of reach to the other side of the mattress, then grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into him, his mouth capturing hers for a kiss.

Instantly, she was leaning into him, relenting to his lips. She parted hers gently, and he could taste her toothpaste, sweet and minty against his tongue as theirs both pressed together. She moaned lightly, and her breath was hot against his teeth, and Cloud laid back across the bed, pulling her on top of him.

Tifa shifted slightly above him until she was fully straddling him, her knees at either side of his waist. He could feel her warm center right over his erection, and he groaned as he pulled apart from their kiss, lifting a palm to her cheek.

“Tifa,” he breathed, looking up at her where she hovered above him, her face inches from his. The light in the room illuminated one side of her face, bringing out the deep glimmers that were set in kaleidoscopic patterns around her pupils, while her hair curtained them both in a thick waterfall of licorice. He felt a familiar urge soar through him, thinking about her silence and her phone and the furrow of her brow. It was a deep desire to protect her, to make sure that she was okay, and even if his words failed him, goddamn if he didn’t find some way to make her feel better.

“Hm?” she hummed in response, her lips red and wet.

“Are you… are you okay?” he asked her the same question she’d asked him a hundred times in Colorado, and gently, he squeezed her waist, his other hand splaying wide across her back, holding her against him. “You’ve been really quiet ever since we got back.”

Tifa stared into his eyes for a moment, and then she looked down and lowered her forehead to his chest. He felt her damp hair drape across his skin, and the sensation sent a shiver along his spine.

“I just…” she trailed off for a moment, her breath warm over his clavicle. “I guess I’m scared, Cloud. I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls and texts all week, aside from Aerith’s. And then, there’s supposed to be this big hearing, and I don’t know what my father is going to do, or what is going to happen, and I just don’t know how I am going to face anyone or what I should - “

The panic had risen so quickly in her voice that Cloud felt compelled to stop her. “Hey,” he called softly, holding her still and tight against him. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, Teef, you’re gonna be okay. You’re strong.”

She shook her head against his chest, and he felt her tremble, realizing that she was about to cry.

“Hey, I mean it,” he told her, pulling her chin up so that their eyes could meet. She blinked up at him, her eyes misted over, the tears catching in her lashes when she closed her eyes.

“You’re strong,” he repeated, squeezing her body against his. “And I’ll always be here to remind you of that. And anything you think you can’t face on your own, I’ll be right at your side to help you through.”

“Cloud,” Tifa whispered in response, smiling at him, and then she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, warming him over with her affection. “Thank you.”

Cloud didn’t know why he was blushing. Maybe it was because his own sentiments were affecting him, or maybe it was because she was so damn cute, but he couldn’t stop the heat that rose in his cheeks.

He also couldn’t ignore the warmth of her body against his, especially where their hips were aligned. At the thought of it, he was lifting his hips up to hers, and she responded by breathing out a moan against his neck.

“You like that?” he whispered up at her, his voice gravel, and she responded with a purr as her hips began to rotate, her lips sneaking kisses along his collar bone. “Maybe we should finish what your father interrupted that night.”

He felt her breath as she laughed into his skin, her hands coming up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the wispy hair there. The feeling of her manicured nails across his scalp sent a wild current through him, and his hands lowered down the back of her body, finding her bottom and grabbing palmfuls of it, pushing her down against his hips as he pushed up again, grinding into her.

“Oh,” he heard her cry out after a moment, and the layers of fabric between them were so thin that he could feel himself trapped between her folds, could feel her clit hard on the base of his shaft. He pushed her down harder, and she rotated her hips in sync with his, her keens escalating as the pressure built. Her hands slid away from his neck, down to his shoulders, where she curled her fingertips into the muscles there, causing him to wince as they moved each other closer and closer to the edge.

“Tifa,” Cloud suddenly breathed, feeling himself close to coming apart and making a mess in his boxers. He pulled on the waistband of her underwear, releasing it to snap back against her skin.

“Take this off,” he growled.

Tifa pushed up and away from him, and he watched her with eyes hooded as she carefully slid her underwear away. When they were gone, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her hands to the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, his erection sliding out, pink and wet.

“Why do we even bother putting on clothes anymore?” she asked him playfully, crawling back over him.

Cloud held her hips in both hands, starting to laugh in response, but the sound was cut off by a moan of her name when she sank down on his length, filling herself with him. He winced, Tifa dropping her palms flat against his chest, her thumbs ghosting over his nipples, and he tossed his head to one side of the pillow, closing his eyes shut as he gasped, the sensation raising goosebumps along his flesh.

“Goddamnit, fuck, Tifa,” he heard himself rumble as Tifa began to ride him, lifting her hips off of him with a grind and dropping back down until she was bouncing in a circular rotation on his cock, her breasts jostled from her movements.

The sounds she made transitioned from throaty gasps to bright whines of his name, her hands still roving his body, singeing his flesh everywhere that she touched. He dug his fingertips into her hips until his nailbeds went pale and white, and he lifted his hips in time with her body to meet hers, forcing her to drop her mouth open with a cry. He grinned at the sight, at the way she threw her head back and exposed her throat, at the way that her nipples strained against the tight knit fabric of the t-shirt she was still wearing. But his grin faltered when she paused, opening her eyes to look down at him, her irises darkened to a cabernet red with lust.

She reached for his left hand that was at her hip, pulling it away, and he watched with fascination as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently and sweetly pressing kisses to the top of his hand and knuckles, along the inside of his wrists and his pulse point, even across the callouses on the underside of his palm. The sensation of her soft lips against his skin sent new conflagrations of heat throughout his body, his dick twitching inside of her even though she had stilled her hips.

Her tongue left a wet trail behind all of her kisses, and he realized that she was gently soaking almost his entire hand, until she brought his fingers up to her mouth. Slowly, she began to suck his index and middle fingers between her lips, dousing them in her saliva as she sealed her mouth around him. Her eyes remained locked with his, and Cloud felt the coil in his belly pull tight, ready to snap, especially when she pulled her lips away from his digits with a pop, moving onto his ring and pinky fingers and finally his thumb.

He continued to watch her, awestruck, until soon he was drenched in her spit from fingertip to wrist, and his heart was a runaway train in his chest, the lower half of his body about to burst apart as he realized she was lowering his sloppy, wet hand between where their bodies were joined.

“Touch me,” she purred, her voice thicker, sultrier, and more demanding than he’d ever heard it, and Cloud was sure he smelled smoke from where his brain was fizzling and sparking.

_Fuck fuck fuck she’s fucking hot_.

He didn’t have to be told more than once, was more than willing to obey immediately, eager to please. As soon as her hand slipped away, both of them sliding back to find purchase on his abdomen, Cloud immediately got to work, turning his palm upward as he slotted his fingers around the base of his cock, two on each side and his thumb raising up to swipe at her clit. Tifa immediately mewled her reaction, but Cloud only smirked at her, sliding his longer fingers along her folds until he dipped two through her slippery leaking wetness that was coating his entire center, sliding them upward gently and adding to the penetration of his dick inside of her.

“Oh, Cloud, god..” She cried when he thrust up inside of her, the added fullness of his fingers snaking inside her tight passage forcing her to shudder, her nails digging into his chest until she broke the skin when he began to rub the pad of his thumb against her clit in a swift, back and forth motion.

“You asked for it,” he tossed back at her, and the moan she responded to him with was sinful.

Emboldened by that, she started to ride him faster, twirling her hips and rocking back and forth, while Cloud kept his thumb against her clit, his fingers still curling against her folds or pressing inside of her. She was whimpering and whining now, her sounds bold and bright and _so_ very loud, and Cloud tried to lean up so he could look her more deeply in her eyes, but his own body was shaking.

“Tifa,” he tried instead. “Look at me.”

Hearing the deep tenor of his voice, Tifa opened her eyes to meet his again, and as soon as he caught her bubbly red pools, he smiled at her.

Her mouth dropped open, emitting a wail, and then she pinched her eyes closed again and rocked forward over him. Cloud felt all of the tremors in her body, felt the way her walls fluttered and clenched around his cock and his fingers as she screamed through her climax, and the combination of sensations whited out his brain.

He closed his eyes, pulling his hands away to reach up and grab her hips, and senselessly drove up inside of her until he felt the pleasure tear away into a supernova, and he held Tifa firm and close against him as he burst apart inside of her.

She was still whimpering, but Cloud could only hear the sound of his own staggered breathing and his heartbeat slamming right against his chest. After a moment, he opened his eyes to see her still stuttering and sobbing in the aftershocks above him, and he leaned forward and pulled her down to lay across his body.

She instantly snuggled herself to him, her breasts warm and soft on his chest, still trapped beneath the cotton of her shirt. He brought his right hand to the small of her back, holding her and rubbing her consolingly, while he let his wet, messy hand hang off to the side on the bed, unsure of what to do with it. Instead of worrying about it, he held Tifa close and kissed her hair.

“You okay, Teef?” he asked her after a moment.

She was still breathing heavy and ragged, but she managed to look up at him, offering him a tiny smile, her eyelashes wet.

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “That was, um, really hot.”

Cloud offered her a smile of his own. “ _You’re_ really hot.”

She giggled, crushing her face into his neck, and he groaned when she kissed and suckled gently at his flesh.

He rolled her over, ripping the covers back to pull over her, kissing her on her nose and lips before he pulled away from the bed to turn the light off and wash his hands.

“Go to sleep, Tifa,” he whispered, and she closed her eyes, sinking under his covers and settling among the sheets.

He watched her for a moment, her face slipping away into contentment as sleep descended over her in the darkness, and Cloud thought that maybe, she had forgotten her troubles.

At least, for a little while.

* * *

When Tifa woke early the next morning, she turned to find that she was still laying in an entanglement of limbs with Cloud. His arms were around her upper body, embracing her tightly, and she was holding him around his waist. 

She blinked against the sunlight that streamed in from his window, highlighting the sparkles of gold in his fluffy yellow hair. She was compelled to touch it, bringing her hand up to carefully rake her fingers through the soft spikes that framed his face. His cheek was inches from hers on his pillow, and she could hear the soft sounds of his breathing, feeling his gentle exhales against her lips. 

She savored those serene moments with him, laying next to him under his sheets in the quiet, early morning hours, his body warm beside hers, for just a few moments. But the longer that she lay there, listening to the sounds of his breathing and the roll of tires on the asphalt outside, the longer that she felt reality creeping back in, a cold snake that was slithering up her spinal cord to wrap around her brain. She glanced at where her phone laid on his bedside table, and she felt the icy claws of dread begin to dig into her heart.

For the past several days in Colorado, the phone calls and the text messages and voicemails had come in and piled, and Tifa had ignored nearly all of them, responding only occasionally to Aerith to let her know that she was still alive. In hindsight, it was probably not the best tactic, but at the time, on the other side of the country with only her relationship with Cloud at the center of her heart and mind, Tifa had made the impulsive decision to keep her phone turned off for most of the time she was out West. When she had turned it back on when they touched down at LaGuardia, she once again found herself overwhelmed by the backlog.

Some of it made her feel a little guilty. Her friends from AVALANCHE, even her next-door neighbor Marle, had left her messages of support and concern. Barret’s tone was fatherly and unyielding. Even Elena’s texts were filled with worry, and Tifa could just imagine the high pitch of her voice as she demanded to know where Tifa was and why she hadn’t come into work. It only brought her fresh anxiety as she realized how terrible she felt inside for disregarding their sentiments, forming a lump in the center of her throat that burned.

Then there were the messages that really sent her heart into a nervous throttle - the cold correspondence from Tseng, the irritated insistence from Rufus, and the persistent pleading from her father. These were the messages that had twisted her insides up and had her not wanting to leave Colorado. She had not been joking when she told Cloud’s mom that she would be happy to stay there with them forever.

Unfortunately, that was hopelessly unrealistic, and Tifa knew that she could not run from her problems in perpetuity. She was surprised as it were that her father had not contacted the authorities over her prolonged absence. She wondered if their blow-up over the phone earlier that week had actually been enough to get him to back off a little bit.

Begrudgingly, she sat up slowly in bed, feeling Cloud’s arms slip away as she shifted, and she missed his warmth almost immediately. He groaned in annoyance at the loss of her contact, tossing in his sleep and curling closer to her. She smiled, indulging herself in combing her fingers through his hair again before she finally sighed and leaned over him to reach for her phone.

It was a Sunday morning, and Tifa could see a fresh string of missed messages from the night before. Most of them were from her father, but there was also one from Aerith, checking in on her. Tifa opened it, typing in her response.

**_Tifa:_ ** _Hey. I’m back. I spent the night at Cloud’s. I’ll be home in a little while. Are you home?_

**_Aerith:_ ** _Hey!! AT CLOUD’S!? Zack has been staying here almost all week. Yes, I’m home. I’ll send him on his way so that you and I can talk when you get here._

**_Tifa:_ ** _Lol. Ok_

Tifa smiled at the barrage of ridiculous emojis that Aerith latched on to her last text, then sighed and dropped her phone, rubbing gently at her eyes. She felt Cloud stirring at her side, and she turned back to him, finding his blue eyes staring back at her.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispered back.

His eyes dropped down to where her phone had fallen in her lap, then looked back up at her. “Everything okay?”

He sat up on his elbow, his eyes now tracing her face. The scrutiny made her blush in a way that she thought was silly; after all the intimacy that they’d shared, she didn’t understand why she would feel so bashful around him.

“Yeah,” she replied after a moment. “I just… I guess I really need to get home.”

Cloud brought one hand up to brush along her upper arm, up to her shoulder. She noticed that his eyes were hovering over her breasts before he lifted them to her eyes again.

“Okay,” he finally replied. “If you need me, I’m here.”

“I know,” Tifa responded, feeling her insides pooling again from the warmth that he summoned out of her.

Cloud was pulling on her shoulder, dragging her down to him. “Stay with me for a little while longer? Before you go?”

But before she could answer, the next thing she knew, he had pulled her in for another long kiss and she was under the sheets with him again. 

* * *

It was already mid-morning when Tifa finally managed to tear away from Cloud, showering quickly before grabbing her suitcase and finally leaving his apartment to cross the street to her own. She ran into Zack on her way out, his hair disheveled and a sunny, sloppy grin on his face.

When she returned to her brownstone, she found Aerith right away, sitting in the living room wearing pink and white pajamas, curled up in a blanket with a paperback under her nose. As soon as Tifa gently closed the door behind her, Aerith was at her feet.

“Tifa!” she exclaimed, her jade-green eyes widening, and she quickly crossed the room and enveloped Tifa in a tight hug before she could even set her suitcase down.

“Aerith,” Tifa wheezed in response, laughing from her affection.

It was only a moment later that Aerith was pulling on her wrist, dragging her to the couch to sit her down, not even giving Tifa enough time to slide out of her shoes. Tifa found herself being pushed into a seat beside her, and she glanced up at Aerith, finding her friend’s eyes sparkling.

“I was so worried about you!” Aerith cried, clasping her hands together in front of her heart. “Are you okay? How is Cloud? How is his mom? I prayed for her every day. I even put out a crystal for her!”

Tifa’s head was spinning. “Whoa, Aerith, please, slow down. I’m okay. Cloud, he’s okay now. His mom is going to be okay, I think. She just needs to heal and take care of herself. I’m sure Cloud will be so happy to know you were thinking about them.”

Aerith just exhaled heavily, her face brightening with a smile.

“I’m so glad everything worked out,” Aerith conceded. “You were gone for a _week_. Did you get to spend time with Cloud?”

“…I did,” Tifa answered, hesitant to go down this road.

But Aerith’s grin was devilish. “You have to tell me _everything_ , Tifa.”

“Everything like what?”

“Tifa!” 

Tifa shook her head, blushing and looking away. “Aerith… I went there to support him.”

“And I bet you did!” Aerith cried, clapping her hands together, and even Tifa had to laugh at that.

A moment passed while they both giggled, but eventually, they quieted, and the silence in the air began to hang with the frightening certainties that were waiting for her.

“And how are _you_ making out?” Aerith asked her next, her voice quieter and her hands now in her lap. “With your father, and everything that happened with Shinra?”

Tifa stared down at her hands, noticing the rough patches on the tops of her knuckles from all of her training at Zangan’s dojo. “I… don’t think it’s good, Aerith. I fought with my dad on the phone in Colorado. I said some ugly things to him. And Shinra… I don’t know what’s going to happen. That attorney keeps calling me.” 

“Your father came by here. Several times, actually.”

Tifa sighed, leaning back on the couch. “Of course he did.”

Aerith leaned forward. “I know you may not want to hear this, Tifa,” she began. “But I really think you should talk to him. You won’t be able to move on until you clear the air with him. Especially with everything that is happening with him and Shinra.”

Tifa shook her head, closing her eyes in distress. “I don’t know, Aerith…”

“Sometimes, Tifa,” Aerith went on softly, “Forgiveness is less about the other person, and more about your own peace. And I can feel the turmoil that’s still inside of you. You know that you can’t ignore your father forever, especially not when he goes to trial.”

Tifa opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the ring of her phone at her side. Blinking, she looked down and picked it up, glancing at the display.

“What’s wrong?” Aerith asked instantly at the way she grimaced.

“It’s that district attorney again,” Tifa responded, holding the phone up for Aerith to see.

Aerith slid back on the couch. “You better answer it, Tifa.”

Tifa sat up again, her brow furrowed as her thumb hovered over the call display, frozen in terror. She had no idea what to expect when she answered that call, and it sent a cold splash across her nerves.

Finally, though, she slid her thumb across the screen and brought the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Tifa Lockhart?” it was a man’s voice, deep, smooth, and polished.

“Yes, this is her.”

“Ms. Lockhart, this is US Attorney Reeve Tuesti,” he informed her. “How are you today?”

Tifa felt her earlier chills magnify and pulse. “I’m okay,” she responded carefully.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Reeve continued. “I’ve been trying to reach you for several days now, and I was beginning to get worried.”

Tifa didn’t say anything, just glanced across the couch at Aerith, who was clasping her hands together again.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Lockhart, but I am afraid this is a matter of some urgency. I imagine you have been following the investigation involving your employer, Shinra Capitol, and your father, Brian Lockhart?”

Tifa swallowed slowly. “I have,” she responded carefully. “But I am no longer employed by Shinra Capitol.”

_And I’m not even sure if I have a father anymore._

“Oh?” Reeve’s voice was surprised by this. “Well, that is interesting to learn. May certainly make things less complicated.”

“I’m sorry,” Tifa said. “What are you-?”

Reeve cleared his throat, cutting Tifa off. “We need to question you for discovery, Ms. Lockhart, and we will need you to testify. There is a preliminary hearing scheduled for next week as the first step in the judicial process.”

“Are you asking me to testify against my father?” Tifa asked, her voice faltering, and Aerith’s eyes went wide at her side.

Reeve seemed to detect the shock in her voice, because his own tone took on a stern edge. “Because of the nature of your relationship with Shinra Capitol and some of its employees, including its Vice President, I believe any notions of parent-child privilege are waived in the eyes of the court.”

Tifa felt suddenly dizzy. “But what if I don’t want to testify?” she heard herself whine, almost like she was thirteen again.

Reeve cleared his throat, softening his tone a bit. “I’d rather not have to subpoena you, Ms. Lockhart. I realize this has been difficult enough as it is for you. My goal here is to make this as painless as possible.”

Tifa dropped her head into one hand, shaking it, just as Aerith rested her hand on her arm.

“You’ll be receiving a letter via certified mail within the next day with the details of the upcoming hearing,” Reeve informed her. “This is not a full trial; it is an opportunity to present the judge with the facts of the case. There will not be a jury or any significant public spectatorship. It is just one of the first steps of many in moving towards trial.”

Tifa, who had watched enough police procedurals in her life, was already aware of this and tired of hearing his voice. She sat up straight again, shaking her head.

“Fine.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“No,” she practically snapped.

Reeve seemed to understand that the conversation had reached its limits. “Very well. I will see you Friday, then, Ms. Lockhart. My office may reach out to you prior to then with other questions as part of the discovery process. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions of your own.”

Tifa didn’t say anything further, didn’t even bother with a goodbye, just disconnected her phone and tossed it onto the couch between her and Aerith, shaking her head as her eyes burned with tears.

“What’s happening?” Aerith asked, her hand now on Tifa’s knee.

Tifa leaned back into the couch again, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

“I need to talk to my father.”

* * *

It was only a couple of hours later, the early February sky already darkening, when Tifa found herself in the backseat of a taxi, riding over the Brooklyn Bridge back into Manhattan. She stared out of the window, holding her purse in her lap, watching the skyscrapers stretch by and the crowds ebb and flow through the streets as they soon passed through midtown, en route to the Upper East Side.

Her heart was living in her throat, and the panic that was gripping her nerves had her hands shaking even where she kept them stationary in her lap. After an eternity of sitting at the edge of her bed, deliberating with her phone clutched in her hands, Tifa had finally bitten the bullet and made the decision to call her father, terror clinging to her lungs every time she inhaled as the phone rang, until he finally answered, his frantic voice sending a chill through her spine. 

She’d tried to keep their phone conversation cool, but almost instantly, he was offering to send a car to pick her up. She quickly declined, not wanting anything to do with his opulence that she was now certain was funded by fraudulent and criminal activity. Just the thought of it, and the whole big mess that she herself was now tangled into, made her feel sick, and she opted to take a cab instead, her stomach turning over as the taxi began to turn onto Park Avenue.

After everything that had transpired between them, Tifa was dreading this conversation more than anything in recent memory. It was worse than the tug of war she’d felt in her chest before her first day of work at Shinra, was worse than the nauseating dizziness she got whenever Rufus summoned her to his office.

It was a tight, chained-up pit, deep in her belly that she hadn’t felt since she’d woke up in a strange hospital bed, only to learn that her mother was dead.

She soon saw her father’s complex come into view - the condominium where she had lived in a spacious luxury flat with him when they moved to New York. She stared up at the gleaming, glass and gold encased front door, her chest heavy as she tried to breathe, the cabbie glaring at her through the rearview mirror as he waited for her to depart.

Eventually, she felt her feet moving, carrying her towards the lobby. As soon as she stepped inside, she was assaulted by her memories of living here, of the loneliness and the sadness of those years, her mother buried in the ground and her father buried in his work. Her first year here had been so, so very difficult. A popular, happy kid back in Breckenridge, Tifa struggled to make friends as she tried to complete her eighth-grade year in a new and overbearing city. Other children avoided the despondency that she draped herself in, trying to cope unsuccessfully with the brutal separation from her mother that she was not given a proper convalescence to grieve through. And things had not been much easier in high school, when her father had made the decision to send her to an elite boarding school. Tifa, by then, had learned how to hide her feelings away, had figured out how to channel her depression and her anxiety into her academics and her extracurriculars while the other students and the teachers admired her easygoing nature, her pretty face, and her hardworking, diplomatic attitude. Yet she still struggled to form meaningful bonds with anyone other than Aerith.

She’d missed her home, she’d missed her mom, and she had missed Cloud Strife.

She shook those specters away, waiting for the doorman to buzz her in. Taking the elevator up to her father’s flat, she realized that her right leg would not stop trembling, and it took everything out of her to will it to stop as she tried desperately to reclaim her composure.

She knew how swift and tactical her father could be, and she knew that she would not make it out of this conversation with any form of dignity if she did not strengthen her resolve.

Approaching his door, Tifa inhaled a deep breath, raising her fist to knock at his door. But it swung open before she could, and she glanced up to find her father standing in the threshold.

He was more disheveled than Tifa had seen him since her mother died. His face was unshaven, his thick, dark stubble an uneven shadow around the lower half of his face, even his mustache longer and curled and untrimmed. He was wearing a bathrobe over silk pajamas, a ridiculously luxurious ensemble when coupled with the bedraggled state of his dark hair, knotted and wild as if he had not combed it in days. His eyes were glassy and red, appearing that he had not slept in just as long.

“Tifa,” he greeted her, his eyes widening, and already she could smell the booze on his breath, heavy and toxic as it wafted and wrapped around her.

She tried not to wince and betray her disgust, tried not to let him see how her hands were shaking. Instead, she breathed in again and nodded, waiting patiently until he finally stepped out of the way, gesturing for her to enter.

She passed the foyer and then stepped into the expansive living room, her eyes sweeping the space as memories returned to her. Nothing had really changed - the couches were still a deep black leather, the carpet a pale slate gray, the electric hearth still in the center of the room, mounted with photos from a life long ago in the past that was set against snowy, periwinkle mountaintops. The floor to ceiling windows on the opposite end of the room still offered the same wide, gleaming view of the Upper East Side and the New York City skyline that she had often stared out at late into the evenings, waiting for her father to come home.

Brian closed the door, and he turned to her, staring at her as if he wanted to do or say something. Tifa heard her heart loud and clear in her throat, and she swallowed to push it back down into her chest.

“…Have a seat. I’ll get us something to drink,” he said, his voice dry, and before Tifa could protest, he had disappeared into the kitchen.

She sighed, and instead of obeying, began to drift elsewhere throughout the apartment, looking around as she walked. She hadn’t returned here since she and Aerith had moved in together over two years ago, and she felt herself drifting into her old bedroom, memories and nostalgia pulling her inside.

She glanced around the large, feminine room, taking in the coral-colored bedding, the cream-colored walls, the lacy, floral curtains. Everything was as it had been before she’d moved out, her desk still against one wall, an old leather punching bag hanging from the ceiling, her walk-in closet still packed with clothes and shoes she’d outgrown. She’d even left up some of her old band posters on the walls.

But even though she’d slept in this room for eight of the last ten years, it had never quite felt like home to her, never felt like her room back in Breckenridge had.

In fact, New York had never quite felt like _home_ , she realized.

She turned, stopping by her dresser to see the collection of photographs that she’d hung up around her vanity mirror years ago, most of them when she was in high school. There were a couple of photos of her with her father, images captured at her high school and college graduations. There were dozens of photos of her and Aerith in their boarding school uniforms, pleated skirts and sweater vests, sitting in the grass in front of the Academy, snapshots taken in front of the lockers. There was a picture of her in her wine-colored prom dress, standing next to a sandy-haired boy who had been nice but not very interesting.

There was a picture of her and Cloud the summer before she started eighth grade and he ninth, and they were standing in front of a tilt-a-whirl at the town fair in Breckenridge. The picture was an old polaroid, and Tifa remembered that it had been Claudia Strife who had taken it, right before she left them for a few hours to hang out together. Tifa remembered feeling like she was grown and on a date, walking side by side with Cloud throughout the park, both of their cheeks tinged with pink as they played games and ate cotton candy and sampled the rides together. She remembered the tilt-a-whirl in particular making Cloud nauseous, and she smiled at the memory. 

They both looked so young and small in the photo, Cloud scrawny and slight, a surly look on his face, his hair messy around his head, his gait awkward. Tifa was smiling back at her now older self in the photo, wearing a resplendent, seafoam-green sundress, her eyes bright and her cheeks glowing.

Of course, she had been smiling. It was before Mom had died.

Tifa swiped the picture away from the mirror, dropping it into her purse. She was about to turn away when one last photo caught her attention. At first, Tifa had to do a double-take, thinking the photo was of herself and wondering when she had ever worn bell-bottom jeans. But she quickly realized it was a photo of her mother when she was much younger, taken before Tifa had been born. She was standing in front of a hill in Colorado that was coated with marigold Aspen trees, her raven hair in a willowy blow behind her, crimson eyes shining as she smiled at the camera. The photo was old, frayed at the edges and patches of it beginning to blur and fade. She remembered that her father had given it to her some time after Mom had died, and when they moved to their new place in New York, it had been one of the first photos she had put up.

Stifling back tears, Tifa carefully removed the delicate photo and tucked it into her purse along with the one of her and Cloud.

She wrapped her arms around herself, leaving her bedroom and stepping back into the hall, just as her father returned with an expensive bottle of red wine and two glasses. He placed them on the dining room table, turning up the dimmer on the chandelier lighting, and Tifa raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

“Please, Tifa. Join me?”

Tifa inhaled again, trying to will her heart to stop its erratic tempo as she sat in the chair beside him. Her father slid into a seat at the head of the table, pouring the already open cabernet into the glasses. Tifa reached for it hesitantly, hearing her heart in her ears.

Brian brought his glass up for a sip, wiping his mustache with the back of his hand after he drank. He set the glass down, still keeping his eyes on Tifa, and she found herself looking down at the polished wood of his dining room table.

“Tifa.” He said after a moment.

Tifa looked up at him again, and he leaned over the table slightly. From where she was sitting, she could smell the alcohol buried in his pores. 

“I - I need to apologize to you,” he began, looking down and shaking his head. “I’ve thought about what you said. You were right, sweetheart. And I don’t blame you for being angry with me or hating me. I’ve been a terrible father.”

Tifa let out the breath she was holding, still gripping her wine glass, unable to lift it to her lips, her hand was trembling so hard.

Brian shook his head, staring down into his wine. “I know there’s no excuse for how I’ve treated you. But I want you to know that I never did any of this because I wanted to hurt you. I always thought I was doing what was best for you.”

Tifa swallowed, feeling a sudden spark of anger somewhere deep in the back of her mind, threatening to tear out of her mouth in an outburst. Thinking back on the last few years, she wondered how he could possibly think such a thing, after the way he’d forced her to give up on her passions, forced her to wear a false persona in front of people she despised, and forced her into the toxic proximity of a man who wore a hidden, icy cruelness beneath the carefully coiffed and painted veneer of wealth and charisma.

“How can you say that?” she finally demurred, speaking for the first time since she’d entered the apartment. Her eyes were suddenly burning, and it only piled onto her vexation to realize that she was losing control of her emotions already. “You haven’t thought about my feelings in years. You never think to ask me what I want. Ever since mom died, you’ve made every decision for me. You sent me away to Oakwood Friends Academy without even asking me how I felt about it. You chose my university even though I had been accepted to schools all over the country. Then my master’s degree. Then Shinra. And then _Rufus_.”

She spat the last word, its syllables dripping from her tongue like a curse. Brian had been looking into her eyes, but at the mention of the Shinra Vice President, he stiffened slightly and lowered his eyes to his drink again, sipping it quietly.

“You’re right, Tifa. I’m sorry.”

Tifa folded her arms under her breasts, dumbfounded, and sat back in her chair. She thought about what she could possibly say to him next, but he was sighing and then speaking again.

“The truth is, Tifa, I never knew how to handle anything after your mother died. When she was alive, the only thing I had to worry about was work. I knew that if I provided for you both, that everything would always be okay. Your mother was the light of both of our worlds, Tifa, but she kept mine turning. I had always thought I would go before her. She could never die, not the way that I thought about her in my head.”

Tifa swallowed painfully, her throat sandpaper as she stared at her father, finding his dark brown eyes suddenly glassy.

“When she was killed… I didn’t know what to do, Tifa. I was devastated, and I blamed myself for the accident. For years, to this day. I had no idea how to raise a young woman, hell, I don’t think I could have raised any child without her. But you - it was different. You were so close to your mother, and I couldn’t replace that bond. I never knew what to do or to say. All I could do was worry, worry that some poor average sap would try to take advantage of you, would try to ruin your life, or that something might happen to you and I’d lose you like I lost your mother.”

“Dad…” Tifa tried, but her father shook his head in contrition, continuing. “So I threw myself into my work, Tifa. Numbers are what I’ve always known, and I knew that it was the only way I could keep going after Lorelai was gone. The only way I could take care of you. I got carried away, thinking I knew what was best for you.”

Tifa couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. She shook her head, feeling them spill down her cheeks, and angry and embarrassed, she pressed her knuckles to her cheeks and looked away from him, her bottom lip trembling.

When she said nothing, Brian cleared his throat, drinking again before continuing. “I’m sorry, Tifa. None of this is an excuse. I hope that one day you’ll forgive me.”

Tifa just wiped her eyes, shaking her head.

“I don’t know, dad. I need time.” Her mind was now swimming with images of her mother, of the photo that was hidden inside of her bag. None of this was fair, she realized, and she hated the way that she felt her anger at her father slipping away into pity.

She shoved it aside, the emotions making her unstable, wavering where she sat and constricting her throat. Instead, she looked up at him, catching him still staring at her remorsefully, and reminded herself of why she had come here in the first place.

“The district attorney called me,” she informed me gravely. “Tuesti. He has demanded that I testify.”

At this, Brian expelled a breath, leaning back in his chair, turning away from her with his eyes narrowed.

“Goddamnit.”

“Dad,” Tifa began again slowly, her voice still quivering, her throat still staked with knives. “I need you to tell me what is going on. The truth.”

There was a long pause as Brian waited, before he turned back to her. 

“Listen to me, Tifa,” he began. “Scarlet and Heidegger… I don’t really know what they were into. But we have good attorneys, and I am not concerned. Tseng will be sure to have the case thrown out during next week’s hearing. It will never go to trial.”

“But why do they want me to testify?” Tifa demanded, unnerved by how he skirted around her underlying question.

Brian shook his head, leaning over the table. “Tifa, you have nothing to be concerned about. None of the work you were involved with during your time with Shinra has anything to do with the ambitions of this fanatical prosecutor. If he is forcing you to testify, simply answer his questions, and be done with it. I can assure you we have nothing to hide.”

Tifa narrowed her eyes, watching as her father looked away again into his wine, and something inside of her told her that she shouldn’t believe him.

The air grew cool, Brian becoming silent in thought, and Tifa felt the stifling suffocation swirling around her again. She realized suddenly that she needed to get out of this oversized apartment that had been swallowing her alive since she’d moved here a decade ago.

She slid away from the table, rising to her feet. It dawned on her then that she hadn’t even taken her coat off once since she’d arrived, that her father hadn’t even offered to take it from her.

It was just another small symbol of the distance that had cratered between them, and she wondered then, despite his guilt trip and despite his begging, if they would ever be able to bridge it.

She hadn’t even touched her wine.

“I need to get going.”

Her father looked up at her, his eyes wet, his nose and cheeks splotchy and ruddy and red. The back of her mind prickled as she wondered how much he had been drinking in the past days.

He nodded, rising and following her to the door, Tifa’s heart pounding every step she took across the massive apartment.

When she reached the door, her father stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Tifa,” he began again, his voice choked. “I want to fix this. You are my daughter, and I love you. I’m sorry.”

Tifa stared at him, feeling her eyes begin to flood at the corners again. The walls were starting to close in once more, and she felt deprived of oxygen.

And all she did was slowly nod, turning away from him and almost sprinting for the elevators, fresh tears spilling as she broke into sobs as soon as their doors slid closed.

At least, when she stepped back outside onto Park Avenue’s cold, dark sidewalk, she could finally breathe again. 

* * *

Tifa didn’t remember ever having been inside of a courtroom before in her life.

Today, though, she was standing in front of the Daniel Patrick Moynihan Courthouse in Manhattan, staring up at its massive pillars of stone and granite and marble, its windows glittering in the bright morning sun. She pulled at the hem of her skirt, a suit that she hadn’t worn since she had been working for Shinra.

It was Friday morning, just after nine, and the preliminary hearings into the charges brought against her father and the other members of Shinra Capitol’s executive leadership were set to begin in under an hour. Tifa had gone through the entire week feeling the apprehension deep in her bones, unnerved at the prospect of sitting on the stand answering questions about her or her father or anyone else’s involvement in Shinra’s financial transgressions. Even though Reeve Tuesti had called her earlier that week for initial questioning, giving her a preview of the kinds of things he was interested in learning, Tifa still felt nervous and unprepared for this sort of pressure and spotlight.

Although it was only a preliminary hearing and not the actual trial, the media was out in full force. The scandal and its ripple effect on the financial sector had gotten national attention, and with Rufus being somewhat of a celebrity, even the paparazzi were scouting the territory outside of the courthouse, waiting for the opportunity to snag a candid photo. All of the major cable networks had set up camp, alongside the local news stations, reporters chattering their speculations into their microphones while the cameras rolled.

“Mayor!”

Tifa turned and watched a reporter flag down an elderly man in a dark gray and green suit with a handlebar mustache and wire-framed glasses. He was immediately exasperated at the intrusion, rolling to a stop on his polished oxford heels as he faced the reporter and the accompanying camerawoman.

“What it is?” he sighed.

“We are here with New York City Mayor Domino,” the reporter announced to the camera. “Mayor Domino, do you care to comment on today’s hearing in the now infamous Shinra financial scandal?”

The Mayor leaned back, offering a grin. “There isn’t much to say,” he crowed, offering a light chuckle. “I have faith in DA Tuesti. I am certain justice will be served by the time this is all over.”

With that, Tifa watched as he turned and made his way up the steps, an aide in a dark suit and boots following behind him.

Cloud was standing at her side, dressed in all black, waiting for her to initiate their stride into the courthouse. He was back to working nights at the energy plant again, and as soon as she told him she would be testifying that morning, he insisted on accompanying her. She hadn’t wanted to get him involved - she could only imagine the look on her father’s face when he saw them together - but he had not taken no for an answer, and Tifa found herself unwilling to dispute it with him. She knew how badly she needed the emotional support.

“You okay?” Cloud asked her when she continued to hesitate on the curb.

Tifa inhaled the cold February air, nodding her head slowly. “Yeah. I think so.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, then finally took a brave step forward, Cloud a pace behind her as they entered the courthouse.

They settled into seats in the rear of the courtroom, watching as attorneys began to arrive. Despite what Reeve had said, the rows were already packed with spectators, family members and city officials and Shinra employees, although the media was not permitted inside. 

It was almost ten when the Shinras began to arrive, her father the first.

He walked through the aisle, pausing when he saw Tifa seated on a bench in the back of the room. He had finally shaved and was dressed in one of his three-piece suits, a navy blue vest over a simple white shirt. His mouth opened as if he were going to say something when his eyes met Tifa’s, but then they fell on Cloud, and she saw them narrow as his entire face pinched. Slowly, his mouth closed, and he walked down the aisle to the front of the room to take a seat at the defendant’s table.

Rufus and his father were the last to arrive. Heidegger and Scarlet sat up front along with Brian, and when the two Shinra men joined, it was a strange sight to behold to see the entire senior executive team sitting there, bored or annoyed expressions on their faces as they waited to learn if this case was going to progress through to trial.

Rufus did not look at Tifa until he found his seat at the front of the room. As he draped his coat over the back of the chair, he glanced up at her, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before they flickered to where Cloud sat beside her, and he was smirking at her before he turned around and took his seat.

“All rise,” a bailiff soon announced. “The Honorable Judge Bugenhagen presiding.”

Tifa watched as the judge, a much older man with round-rimmed glasses and a short, round gait, entered in dark robes and took a seat behind the bench. She saw Tseng and Reeve both approach, and there were whispers among the trio, a cross look on Tseng’s face as they deliberated. Although she could not hear what was being said, she noted the way that the annoyance spread through Tseng’s features as the sidebar conversation went on, the way that Reeve grew ever more smug as Bugenhagen waved his hand in the air, dismissing them both. 

She sat back, trying to settle her nerves as she waited, her knee beginning to rock. As soon as it started, Cloud dropped his hand to it, quelling its tremors before he reached up and took her hand in his, and the small gesture injected something soothing inside of her.

The hearing began with a brief opening statement to the judge from Reeve, who extolled Shinra’s excess and its bloodsucking behavior on ordinary citizens that resulted in devastating financial losses. He presented his evidence in the form of several financial transactions that were captured by the Securities and Exchange Commission. In the process, he called up several investors to testify, including a gruff Texan pilot who took the stand with an angry look on his face.

“Mr. Highwind,” Reeve began. “You’ve filed suit against Shinra Capitol for securities fraud, alleging that they purposefully defrauded you of over two million dollars. Can you explain to the judge what happened?”

“Course I can,” Highwind answered. “I’m an aeronautical engineer by trade, but my wife works for NASA’s space research subdivision. Been interested in going to outer space for as long as I could remember. Been saving up money for years to put into the right start-up. Quite a few private space companies out there, you know. Went to Shinra for investment advice. They swindled me outta all of my savings, investing my money into Palmer Space Industries, which went under two weeks later. They kept all of the profit and I kept all of the losses.”

“Why would that be their responsibility?” Reeve asked, folding his hands behind his back. “Isn’t their job just to advise you as an investor? Surely you understand these investments involve risk.”

“They knew the company was goin’ under,” Cid responded furiously. “It was a goddamn Ponzi scheme.”

Bugenhagen slammed his gavel at the swear.

“Do you have any proof of this accusation?” Reeve asked, running a thumb down his goatee.

“I got the emails,” Cid answered smugly, sitting back in the chair. “Shinra ain’t as airtight as they think they are. Scarlet handled my accounts. Woman’s a hot mess if I ever saw one.”

“Exhibit B,” Reeve offered to the judge, holding up a flash drive and placing it on the evidence table.

Tifa could hear Scarlet gasp and curse all the way in the back of the room, saw the way her spine straightened with a snap.

There was a brief cross-examination from Tseng that left Cid Highwind cussing up a storm in the witness box, Bugenhagen banging his gavel and threatening him with contempt. Eventually, though, Tifa realized that she was being called up to testify next.

Cloud squeezed her hand, nodding his head reassuringly at her as she rose to her feet. It seemed that all of the air had been sucked out of the room when her name was called, and it was so silent as she approached the bench that all she could hear were the sounds of her heels as she crossed the floorboards.

When she sat at the judge’s left side, Tifa realized that she was sweating, her brow wet and her blouse damp and sticking to her skin beneath her blazer. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the heat in the room, by the eyes of everyone on her, especially the defendants, her father staring at her mournfully, Tseng’s eyes freezing her where she sat, Rufus’s blue eyes searing her with a blaze of fire.

She was sworn in, and then Reeve was leaning forward, a soft smile on his face.

“Ms. Lockhart,” he began. “Can you tell the court the nature of your working relationship with Shinra Capitol?”

“I began working there this past January,” Tifa began slowly, stopping to swallow and wet her throat when she realized her voice sounded cracked. “I was a financial strategist and a performance coach. I was only employed for about a month.”

“Hm,” Reeve pondered. “You were the _personal_ financial strategist and performance coach for the Vice President, Rufus Shinra, is that right?”

Tifa locked her hands together in her lap, hating that word, and trying to still the tremors that quaked throughout her body. “Y-yes, I was. That was my assignment.”

“I see. It seems that you had a number of conflicts of interests in your role, did you not?”

Tifa blinked. “What do you…?”

“Isn’t it true you were dating Rufus Shinra?”

Tifa felt as if she had been slapped, and she sat up straighter, instantly hot with anger and embarrassment. Her eyes went first to Cloud, whose blue eyes were piercing her from where he stared ahead in her direction, until she dashed her glare to Rufus, who was smirking so hard with his chin in his hand, he was practically grinning.

“I never dated Rufus,” Tifa immediately declared, summoning all of the resolve she could muster into her voice. “Our relationship was strictly professional.”

Reeve had begun to pace slowly in front of the witness box, a hand at his chin as if in deep thought. “Is that right? Isn’t it true you were seen taking lunch together several times, including at the very exclusive, very expensive, very _romantic_ rooftop restaurant, Manhatta?”

Tifa felt her face fill with fire, felt her body suddenly pulse with rage, a fist clenching the center of her gut. She didn’t dare look at Cloud, filled with shame and fury. She did chance another look at Rufus, sending him a glare of pure hate and death, but he continued to appear amused.

“It was a business lunch,” Tifa replied through harshly gritted teeth.

“Ah,” Reeve conceded, and mercifully, he didn’t push the issue, though, to Tifa, the damage had been done. The experiences she had hated the most about her time working for Shinra and her father’s pressure on her had been bared for the entire world to see.

She really didn’t know if she would ever be able to forgive him, no matter what Aerith said.

“Let’s talk about the firm’s Chief Financial Officer, Brian Lockhart,” Reeve continued. “What is your relationship with him, Ms. Lockhart?”

The way that he stressed her surname had her rolling her eyes. “He is my father,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

“Well, that is interesting,” Reeve speculated. “Such close relationships you have with two of the top men in executive leadership at this company. Surely this must lend you to some knowledge of their work with their investment accounts?”

“Objection,” Tseng was at his feet, but Bugenhagen was waving his hand.

“Overruled,” he said. “Ho, ho, the prosecution may continue.”

“Ms. Lockhart?” Reeve prompted.

Tifa shook her head, the anger bubbling up again, anger at finding herself in this horrible position, anger that had it been her very own father who led her here and who sat across the room at the defense table, seemingly more worried about himself than about her.

“I was not involved in any of my father’s work,” Tifa responded carefully. “And the work I did for Rufus was limited to simple trades and handling of client accounts.”

“What can you tell me about the CorelCorp transactions on January 15 th ?”

Tifa felt herself stiffen, and she could feel Rufus’ eyes, lasers on her face.

“Please remember that you are under oath,” Reeve reminded her when she hesitated.

Tifa swallowed carefully, remembering the strange prickles at the back of her brain during her conversation with Rufus and his team when they discussed CorelCorp, how she thought it was odd that he already knew things that were happening before they had been announced on the trading floors.

“He asked us to sell,” she responded carefully. “It seemed like a reasonable directive at the time.”

“That is interesting,” Reeve remarked, tapping his chin. “Considering that CorelCorp did not fold until January 17 th .”

Tifa said nothing.

Reeve turned to Bugenhagen. “No further questions, your honor.”

Tifa’s heart was pounding so loudly that she almost couldn’t hear anything happening around her. Tseng declined a cross-examination, likely knowing he would get nothing useful out of her after that, and for that, she was grateful.

Her legs trembling, she carefully navigated her way out of the witness box, her eyes meeting Rufus’ glare as she passed him on her way to the back of the room.

When she sat beside Cloud, his body was stiff, and the anxiety and the terror that was already living inside of her only managed to quadruple, and Tifa found herself wondering how she was going to explain what had just transpired without sounding completely pathetic.

She was unable to concentrate for the remainder of the hearing. Several other witnesses were called, including Elena, whose honesty did not help Shinra’s case, and Reno, who was belligerent and was threatened with contempt by Judge Bugenhagen several times for his behavior. Tseng tried to decry the entire investigation as the machinations of an overzealous, power-hungry prosecutor who was more focused on his political aspirations than justice or the law, claiming that his evidence had been flimsy, weak, or nonexistent.

In the end, though, Bugenhagen leaned over the bench, peering down at both parties.

“Ho, ho. I will be honest,” he began, “That when this arrived on my docket, I was sure that this case was headed for dismissal. However, after hearing the evidence presented by both sides of this case today, I am of the opinion that this must be tried in open court.”

There was a collection of gasps throughout the courtroom, including a wild cry from Scarlet’s throat in the front of the room.

“We will set a date for trial, no later than early summer. That should be plenty of time for both sides to prepare. Defendants are not to leave the country and should be considered flight risks.” He slammed his gavel again. “Adjourned.”

Tifa felt as if she were stuck in time as everyone moved around her. She heard the swears from the Shinra table, saw the way her father shook his head in despair as he rose from his seat. Tifa didn’t move as the courtroom emptied, and when her father passed in the aisle, he stopped by her and looked down at her, his eyes glancing at Cloud, who remained rooted at her side. He ran a hand over his mustache as he looked back at her.

“Tifa…”

But Tifa only shook her head and tore her eyes away from his, feeling them fill and spill with tears.

Her father left without a word, and Tifa kept her head down, the salty wetness now running silently down her cheeks.

“Tifa?” she heard Cloud’s voice after long moments.

She wiped her eyes, finally turning to him. He was looking at her with his head tilted to one side.

“Oh, I’m sorry Cloud,” she cried, feeling a fresh gush come on as she thought about her questioning under Reeve, of the hot embarrassment, and how everything was just continuing to fall apart around her. “I never dated Rufus, I swear. He was always trying, and I always turned him down, and I - “

“I know, Tifa,” Cloud cut her off, one hand reaching for hers, the other cupping her cheek and brushing the tears away. “I know. I’m not worried about Rufus.”

Tifa only smiled, leaning her face into his hand, and soon, Cloud’s arm was wrapped around her, holding her close as she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

They remained there, close to one another, until a bailiff finally came and asked them to leave.

* * *

Over the next stretch of weeks, Cloud found himself falling back into a somewhat normal routine. He returned to his boring ass job, watching trucks haul energy supplies past his glass booth at late, dark hours of the night. In the fallout of the Shinra hearing, he stayed close to Tifa, and she would frequently spend the night at his apartment, though he’d yet to stay over at hers. He tried to comfort her, especially as he watched her navigate a difficult relationship with her father while he awaited trial, frequently having to console her after she tried to have a reconciling conversation with him that never really went the way that she hoped.

Cloud thought that maybe Tifa’s father was beyond redemption, but he didn’t dare say that to her, knowing how much hope she still held onto that things would be okay between them. Besides, he was hardly an authority on fathers. His had abandoned him before he’d even been born.

All he could do for her was offer a listening ear, a warm shoulder, and the rest of his body to distract her.

Fortunately, AVALANCHE became a small blessing in both their lives. With the fallout of Tifa’s short-lived stint with Shinra now in the past, Barret immediately offered her a job both managing Seventh Heaven full-time and running his nonprofit’s financial apparatus. He couldn’t pay nearly as much as Tifa had been earning on Wall Street, but Tifa had hardly cared about the money. Cloud watched her eyes light up with new happiness, and he was just glad that he was able to walk home with her at night and take the trains with her after work again.

Her friends, he realized, were his friends now too, and now that he and Tifa were comfortably and openly a couple, he found himself spending more time with Tifa and Aerith, Zack, Biggs, Jessie, Barret, and the rest of the AVALANCHE crew. He had even started to join Tifa in volunteering with them regularly, finding himself developing an unexpectedly close friendship with Biggs. And he almost didn’t mind their teasing anymore, in fact, he felt a little smug about all of it. 

As far as he was concerned, men and women _couldn’t_ just be friends, and Jessie had been more than ecstatic when he finally admitted that he agreed with her.

He spoke to his mother often, still worried about her health but happy to hear her voice vibrant on the phone, free of her earlier wheezing and coughing. He tried to call her at least twice a week, and he texted her daily, and she was so enamored by his concern, but a little overwhelmed by it.

“Don’t you have a book to write, sweetheart?” she had chided him one afternoon. “And that beautiful girlfriend. Spend time with her.”

Fortunately for Cloud, that wasn’t a problem at all. He spent plenty of time with Tifa; if they weren’t working or volunteering with AVALANCHE or hanging out with their friends, they were spending time, alone at last, together. When they weren’t indulging each other physically, they were encouraging each other through all of their struggles, Cloud listening as Tifa complained about her father, Tifa talking Cloud through his headaches and nightmarish flashbacks from the war until the hurt that remained from those days began to dull. She even helped him look over the draft of the novel he’d been working on, that he’d come close to finishing on the flight from Denver, offering him feedback and bragging to their friends about how good his book was and how she had been the first to read it.

She was so encouraging, in fact, that by mid-spring, Cloud had found the confidence to email his draft to several publishing houses in the city.

It was late April, the New York weather warm and wet with the advent of spring when Cloud and Tifa went to see their first Broadway play together. Jessie had gotten her first starring role in a production of _Wicked_ , and they’d gone on opening night to see her performance. It was late in the evening when they returned to Brooklyn, Tifa’s arm threaded through Cloud’s as they walked side-by-side down Sterling Place. Cloud could smell the cherry scent of her lip gloss from where she leaned against him. Her hair was pulled up high in a ponytail, highlighting the definition of her cheekbones, and Cloud realized that it was his favorite way that she wore her hair.

They were nearing her brownstone when Cloud saw a pair of headlights cut on at the curb in front of her building, and he narrowed his eyes as they approached, realizing that there was a black stretch limousine in front of her building. Tifa’s footsteps began to slow, and Cloud turned back to look at her as their arms separated, finding her coming to a pause on the sidewalk.

“Tifa…?” he started, until he heard a car door slam and turned around again.

Rufus Shinra had climbed out of the vehicle, and with the spring weather, was wearing a three-piece, white linen suit, along with a deep smirk on his face. He was carrying a bouquet of white roses that were interspersed by red carnations, and Cloud narrowed his eyes as he watched Rufus push off of the curb and approach.

Rufus leveled his gaze at Cloud for just a moment, a challenging spark igniting behind the icy blue in his eyes, before he turned his attention to Tifa, who seemed frozen now in place. Without waiting for a reaction, he stepped up to them both.

“Tifa,” he began, ignoring Cloud completely. “It’s so good to see you. I was hoping to catch you alone.”

“What do you want, Rufus?” Tifa immediately demanded, her voice sharp.

“It’s been a while,” he answered with a light, amused lilt, raising one hand in the air. “We haven’t had a chance to… catch up since everything happened. The trial is in a couple of months, and I thought it might be a good idea for us to reconnect.”

“Forget it,” Tifa said, and she stepped forward, looping her arm through Cloud’s again.

Rufus chuckled, and the sound made Cloud’s entire body flare with anger, clenching his fists at his sides.

“You know, I’m not upset about the hearing, Tifa,” Rufus continued, taking another dangerous step forward. “I understand that that government lawyer cornered you. But why don’t you let me show you how much I forgive you?”

Cloud was now stepping forward, the cords in his neck popping, his blood pressure rising. “I think she said no,” he growled, and he was less than half a foot away from Rufus’ face. “Back. Off.”

But Rufus only laughed again, sidestepping Cloud to make his way around him to Tifa. 

“Oh, please. Tifa, you know that I know that you are far too good for this. I don’t mind you entertaining your boy toys from time to time, but - “

Rufus’s words were cut off by a loud crack, the sound of his jaw snapping when Cloud’s fist connected with the side of his face. The flowers careened and crashed to the concrete in a wide spill, petals scattering like snowflakes and blood against the dirt.

“Cloud!” Tifa’s hands were covering her mouth, and Rufus was bent over at the waist, holding his face in both hands, spitting blood to the ground and cursing a blue streak.

“You…” he tried before groaning in pain and losing a tooth to the sidewalk.

“Sir!” Another car door opened, and this time Tseng emerged, instantly rushing to Rufus’ side, taking him by the shoulders and turning him towards him to assess the damage. Rufus was still swearing angrily, but he couldn’t seem to stand upright. Tseng looked up and shot a nasty glare at Cloud and Tifa.

“You better hope there is no serious injury,” he threatened, “Or you will be hearing from our legal team.”

Cloud just shrugged, not really giving a fuck.

He wrapped his arm around Tifa, who was still stunned with her hands covering her face, and they both watched as Tseng led Rufus back inside the car, the limo disappearing without another word exchanged between any of them.

Cloud shook his hand out finally, feeling the sting of Rufus’ hard mandible against his knuckles.

Suddenly, Tifa was facing him, pulling on the lapels of his jacket.

“Want to stay over tonight?”

* * *

Aerith was home, it was a Sunday night and she was grading papers in the dining room, but as soon as she saw Tifa appear with Cloud in tow, she made herself scarce and disappeared into her bedroom.

Cloud didn’t have a chance to say a word to her or anything much at all, Tifa was pulling him by the wrist so swiftly into her bedroom. He’d been to her apartment plenty of times, but he’d yet to really spend any time in her bed and he hadn’t yet spent the night. She made him kick his shoes off by the door and leave his jacket in the foyer, before she dragged him through the house and pushed him into her room.

As soon as she closed the door, Tifa shoved him onto the bed, and Cloud fell back, letting out a heavy breath as his heart began to pound and his entire body electrified.

“Fuck,” she said, and Cloud’s eyebrows instantly went up at her language, watching as she bit her bottom lip between her teeth. “You are so hot.”

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, but he really lost it when Tifa crossed over to him and dropped between his knees, instantly reaching for his buckle. Without thinking, Cloud reacted by lifting his hips, her name falling from his lips.

“Teef…” Already, he was as hard as steel, but when her hand freed him from the confines of his boxers, he shifted and groaned in disbelief at the stiff strain he was feeling.

She looked up into his eyes as her fist slid over his skin a few times, her pumps tight and swift, swirling fat beads of precum beneath her fingers. He stared back at her, watching the raspberry swirl in her irises, until her glossy wet lips parted and she dropped her mouth to the head of his cock, enveloping it in her wet warmth, her tongue swirling over his sensitive flesh.

As she began to suck and lick at him, her mouth hollowing and putting pressure on every part of him that she could fit, the sensation was enough to make him dizzy. Cloud winced, leaning his head to one side and closing one eye, dropping his palms to the bed as his hips began to rise again, involuntarily.

“Teee…faa…” he moaned loudly, closing both eyes now and looking away from her, one hand coming around to the back of her head and grabbing her ponytail. At this, he felt Tifa laugh against his flesh, and then she pulled her throat and mouth away from him with a pop.

“Hmm,” she purred, rising to her feet. Cloud was moments away from bursting, and he relented in his staggered state of arousal, finally opening his eyes to look up to her. 

“Tifa,” he warned, but she was smirking at him, looking down at him through her lashes.

“Fuck me, Cloud.”

Cloud knew how to follow instructions well. He promptly got to his feet, turning around and pushing Tifa face-first toward the bed. She was wearing a dress, this time one made out of a soft, cotton material to match the spring weather, and of course, she’d highlighted everything with a pair of those fucking thigh highs that drove him crazy every time.

_Goddamnit_.

She fell forward onto the bed with her ass in the air, emitting a sharp cooing sound. Cloud immediately hiked the skirt of her dress up to her waist, pulling her panties down to her knees and not bothering to go any further than that. He dropped his own pants before he leaned over her from behind, sliding one hand between her legs, his fingers gliding between her seam and finding her entire pussy slippery and dripping.

“Jesus, _fuck_ , Teef.” Cloud’s voice was pure gravel, thick and dark with lust. “You’re fucking soaked.”

“It’s been like that since you broke Rufus’ jaw,” Tifa admitted with a laugh from where her face was pressed to the mattress, and Cloud groaned, feeling his dick twitch against the back of her thigh.

In response, he slid his hand forward until his fingertips found her hard, swollen little clit, soaking it with her arousal before he began to stroke it with wide, firm circles. Tifa started to moan, the high-pitched, keening sound he knew he could pull out of her whenever he touched her this way, her ankles spreading even wider for him.

“Oh, Cloud,” she whined. “Yes… please. Please, please, please…”

Cloud laughed, thinking Rufus Shinra would never get to hear her make these noises. _Ever_.

He pulled his hand away just long enough to bring it around to her front, the pads of his fingers quickly recapturing her clit and finding new ways to flick and swipe and rub at it, while he sank his entire cock inside of her. She cried his name as soon as he hit her farthest wall, and Cloud dropped his free hand to her hip, holding her tight in place as he fucked her hard until she was sputtering and screaming, his fingers never leaving her most sensitive, throbbing spot.

It didn’t take long for both of them to surrender, and Cloud spilled hot inside of her as Tifa whimpered and shouted. He pulled out of her just in time to watch his spend slide out of her, and brought both hands to her rear, holding her apart so that he could watch it drip, his vision hazy around the borders from his own release.

After a moment, he realized that his legs could no longer hold him up, and he collapsed on the bed beside Tifa, who was still lying on her belly, her breathing hard and ragged, her face covered with sweat, her eyes wet around her lashes, a string a drool escaping her lips. Their eyes met after a moment, and soon, they were both laughing for reasons neither could understand nor articulate.

After a moment, Tifa leaned forward and gave Cloud a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips, before she fell back with a smile.

“I love you, Cloud,” she told him, her words brimmed with affection, and Cloud felt his insides heat up all over again.

“I love you, too, Tifa,” he rejoined, bringing his hand up to brush her sweaty bangs out of her face “But I think Aerith may have heard us.”

“She’ll get over it,” Tifa laughed, pushing up from the bed, righting her clothes before she grabbed his wrist. “Come on, let’s go shower. You can sleep naked tonight.”

Cloud grinned, almost tripping over his pants that were still around his ankles as she dragged him along, toward the bathroom.

_Hell, yeah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The final chapter will be a (reasonably lengthed?) epilogue.
> 
> Love you all! Come hang out with me on Twitter @nitezintodreamz to follow my work and scream about these two adorable dorks with me! 💜💫💋


	10. Epilogue:  Is This Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Welp, it's finally over! I hope that you enjoy the final chapter. I want to thank everyone who read this story and everyone who has gone out of their way to show me love, you all don't know how much it all means to me thank you so much.
> 
> A huge, huge shout out and lots of love and gratitude to spaceOdementia for beta'ing this entire thing from start to finish. She's been there for the first seeds of this story back in August. Her listening is probably the only thing that keeps me going with these crazy ideas. LOVE YOU FOREVER 💜💜💜
> 
> Enjoy!

Last Train to Brooklyn

* * *

Chapter Ten - Epilogue

Is This Forever

**_Six months later - September_ **

“Teef? Tifa.”

Tifa was still wrapped thick in a hazy dreamworld, her vision bordered by darkness as she heard her name called somewhere in the distance. She felt herself lurch forward as she reached toward the sound, sighing breathlessly until she realized she had been on the edges of sleep. She blinked, her eyes fluttering open as a shine of white flooded her senses, slats of early morning sunlight beginning to seep into the bedroom through the blinds that hung over the window across from the bed.

“Hmm?”

Cloud was leaning over her, his body pressed against the back of hers, and she turned her head back to glance up at him, her eyes opening to catch his deep blue pools dark and heavy-lidded. He had one arm draped over her belly as he pulled her close to him, a lazy smile plastered on his face that deepened when he saw her eyes open.

“Morning, Teef,” he greeted her, his voice low and roughed over from sleep. 

“Morning,” she murmured, letting out a little yawn. Cloud had one arm above her head on the pillow, and he reached down to brush thick strands of her hair out of her face. “Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

He leaned in to kiss her shoulder, igniting her with a little shiver. “Yeah. Next to you, who wouldn’t?”

She laughed, snuggling deeper under the covers and closing her eyes again, pressing her body back against his. He was firm and warm, and she was instantly smiling.

“Wow, Strife,” she chided, feeling his hardness pressing into her soft bottom. “This early?”

“Can’t help it,” he growled into her shoulder in response, nipping the stretch of pale skin. His hand that was wrapped around her waist began to travel, finding the hem of the t-shirt she wore - one of his old, oversized shirts - drifting beneath to connect with the soft skin that was pulled tight over the expanse of her abdominal muscles. She felt his fingers draw lazy, undefined shapes there, drifting up just enough to brush across the undersides of her breasts.

“Mmm,” she purred in response. “I bet.”

He chuckled into her hair, lowering the trail of his hand. She wasn’t wearing any underwear - they had been tossed away somewhere the night before - and soon, his hand was nudging her thighs apart, fingers seeking the dampness that was already beginning to drip and reawaken there.

“You’re so sexy,” Cloud whispered into the back of her neck, nuzzling her skin and pressing kisses through the dark silk of her hair. “I love seeing you come first thing in the morning.”

“Oh?” Tifa tossed playfully over her shoulder, twirling and rubbing her bottom against his erection.

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice breathless and throaty now. “You wanna come for me?”

“Maybe,” she teased, rotating her hips, and Cloud laughed and looped his arm under her thigh, lifting her leg and sliding one of his beneath it to keep it raised. Kissing her shoulder again, he let his fingers trail new lines over her thighs, drifting to their insides where they flitted aimlessly, causing Tifa to feel her entire body begin to light up as she started to leak and the ache began to pulse.

“You’re such a tease,” she chastised him.

He gave her shoulder bite in response, now lowering his fingers to slide between the wet crease of her flesh.

“You’re fucking soaked already,” he groaned, kissing the spot that he’d bitten into. 

“I might have been dreaming about you,” she purred, leaning back into him even further as she felt his fingers stroke her from bottom to top, giving her clit a teasing pass before he slid back down to gently taunt the rim of her wet passage, gliding his finger inside of her up to his center knuckle.

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” he breathed into her neck.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she tossed back at him, and at that, he laughed again and pulled his finger from her heat, slickly dragging it back up to her engorged nub and beginning to rub circles over it in the way that he had become so proficient at, it was practically hedonistic.

She moaned instantly, tipping her head back and bumping into his forehead, letting her body succumb to the sensations. Cloud was whispering something into her shoulder now, words that were dark and fleeting, but she couldn’t pay attention to them, she was so wrapped up in the pleasure he was slowly pulling out of her. She keened, the sound willowing out into a breathy sigh as she felt him bring her body close to the precipice.

Cloud must have sensed the tension building inside of her, because he abruptly stopped, pulling his fingers away from her wetness in a slow, slippery drag. Tifa whined her protest, even as she felt him shifting behind her, guiding his slick, hard tip into the tight rim of her opening, pressing into her slowly, and stretching her open as he filled her.

Tifa felt the familiar, early feelings of bliss fold over her, her mouth dropping open as his length plunged deep inside of her, the angle of their position sending him deep and tapping a part of her that ignited fireworks in the back of her skull. She moaned darkly, reaching one hand up to find his still hovering above her head, interlacing their fingers together while her other hand brought his free one back between her thighs. He took the hint, and as he began to rock inside of her with a steady rhythm, he began to rub the pad of his finger against her clit again, this time with lazy, slow strokes that made her crazy but lacked the pressure to send her careening over the cliff face.

“Cloud,” she whimpered, and he thrust inside of her even more deeply, tacking into her spot and making her wince and feel dizzy from the rapturous spikes that hit her nerve endings.

As Tifa sighed and whined with every thrust and stroke, Cloud worked her slowly into a frenzy, the sound of his voice whispering soft, sweet nothings and encouraging praises right into her ear, only adding to the languorous build. She closed her eyes and savored it, feeling herself suspended in a deeply entrenched state of raw ecstasy for so long that she was beginning to wonder if her heart could even take it much longer.

Eventually, he began to move faster inside of her, his rhythm now purposeful and determined and no longer indolent and sweet. He kept two fingers now pressed against her sensitive button, but he concentrated on his strokes inside of her, pumping into her hard and fast and driving them both to the edge.

It hit them both at almost the very same moment, and Tifa cried his name sharply as she tumbled across the pinnacle, the sound dying in her throat while she descended into a wave pool of pure euphoria. She heard Cloud groan and swear behind her, and soon he was squeezing her waist painfully tight, painting her insides with his sticky warmth.

A sheen of sweat had broken out into a layer between both their bodies, and Tifa panted frantically as she tried to catch her breath. Cloud held her tight to him, breathing the excess of his release against her shoulder.

“Goddamnit, Tifa,” he muttered, and Tifa could only laugh in response; she could never tire of hearing him swear when they were in bed together.

Moments passed, and eventually, Cloud shifted away from her and rolled to his back, staring up at the ceiling. Having finally caught her breath, Tifa turned to face him, smiling down at the drained look on his face, bringing her manicured fingers up to his face to stroke his jaw.

“That was a hell of a way to start the day,” he groused up at her, returning her smile in the form of a lazy smirk.

She blushed a little, nodding as she traced the boyish curves of his face with her fingertips, falling into the hazy royal blue of his eyes. “Well deserved,” she agreed. “A lot to celebrate today.”

And it was. In fact, they were planning to have a small group of their closest friends over that evening for a little gathering to celebrate the small accomplishments they’d finally found themselves experiencing. 

Over the course of the last several months, a lot had changed for Cloud and Tifa. Tifa began working with AVALANCHE full-time last spring, and she’d helped Barret restructure the nonprofit so that the organization began to generate a lot less overhead so that more funds could be used for resources, materials, and staffing. She managed Seventh Heaven in SoHo for him, too, and her financial prowess had helped see the bar and grill increase its profitability significantly after she’d made several marketing changes and found ways to cut back on excess, petty expenses. 

And now that she no longer had to worry about graduate school, she also began to community organize with AVALANCHE in the borough a lot more. Elections were a year out, and her volunteer work locally those last months - the environmental convenings she held alongside Barret, the signatures for worker’s rights petitions she collected to be sent to the state legislature, the rallies and food drives and voter registration events she helped organized, all began to garner her significant interest in the local political scenes, and soon, Barret was demanding that she run for Borough President again.

“The local party leaders don’t want me, Teef,” he’d explained, slamming his fist against Seventh Heaven’s bar top when she’d protested. “They say I’m too unpredictable, too much of a hothead. I guess I can’t blame ‘em. But you’re much better suited for this kinda work, Tifa. The world needs more honest politicians.”

Tifa didn’t think there was such a thing, but she saw it in the eyes of the locals during her conversations with them, and soon, she found herself warming up to the idea. Cloud had been the one to solidify it for her.

“I told you a long time ago, Tifa,” he said to her one night over sushi in the Bronx. “You’d be good at it.”

That had been all it had taken, and just a few weeks ago, Tifa filed her name with the local election commission.

On the subject of Cloud, things had changed significantly for him as well. He still worked at the energy plant, though by now, it was more because of routine than out of necessity. By midsummer, Cloud had finally found a publisher to pick up his first novel, and he had deposited a 25,000 dollar advance into the bank, the publisher hoping to sell an initial 50,000 copies. The book was scheduled to be released in just a few weeks, and Cloud had gotten several pre-release copies that they were planning to give to their friends later that night. Having already read the book, Tifa was more excited about its release than anything else they were celebrating.

And aside from all of that, their small gathering was also a housewarming. Cloud and Tifa had moved into this two-bedroom flat in Williamsburg at the end of the summer, not long after Cloud’s 25th birthday, and they’d only just recently finished furnishing their new space. It would be the first time any of their friends would be over to visit. After they’d leased their new apartment, Zack had quickly moved into the brownstone in Park Slope with Aerith.

“What do you have planned for today?” Cloud asked her, his breathing finally calm, now reaching his hand up to tangle his fingers in her hair.

“I’m meeting Barret and some canvassers for a few hours today at the new campaign headquarters,” Tifa explained, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the side of her fist. “And then, Aerith is going to help me get the apartment ready for tonight.”

Cloud smiled up at her, her onyx locks twisted and twirled around his fingers. “I’m so proud of you, Teef,” he told her sincerely.

She blushed, looking down, her fingers still brushing against his cheek. “Thanks, Cloud. I’m really proud of you, too. I can’t wait until everyone sees your book tonight.”

Cloud’s cheeks reddened, and he gave his shoulders a little shrug as if he wasn’t interested, but Tifa knew that he was only playing it off, that deep down inside, he was finally feeling accomplished and, maybe, just a little smug.

“How about you?” Tifa asked.

Cloud sighed a little. “I’m meeting with my therapist this morning,” he began, “And then I have to pick my mom up from the airport.”

Tifa offered him a bright smile. “I can’t wait to see her.”

Cloud nodded. “Yeah, me either. Hey, Teef. Do you think your dad is gonna come?”

Tifa lowered her eyes and sat back at that, letting her hand fall from Cloud’s cheek to his shoulder. The truth was, things between her and her father hadn’t improved much over the last six months. The full trial had been held in late June, and mercifully, Tifa had been spared from testifying, since her depositions had provided enough evidence, and her contributions hardly covered the deep corruption of Shinra’s financial transactions that went back more than a decade. 

In the end, Tseng and Shinra’s legal team had negotiated lucrative deals with Reeve and the prosecution, and Scarlet and Heiddegar were quickly thrown to the wolves. They were the only defendants to receive any jail time, both sentenced to three years with opportunities for early releases. The Shinras and Tifa’s father all faced heavy fines in the millions of dollars, were placed on probation with the courts, had hundreds of thousands in assets seized, and were forced to watch as Shinra Capitol was herded into bankruptcy before the company was restructured, fragmented into pieces, and then sold off and liquidated to the highest bidders.

While he was not completely broke after all was said and done, the entire ordeal had put Brian Lockhart into enough of a financial predicament following the seizures and bankruptcies and fines, that he’d had to sell his flat on Park Avenue and move to an apartment across the river in New Jersey. And with his new criminal record, finding work in his former field as a financier had become nearly impossible, and all it had done was send her father into a tailspin of alcoholism and degeneracy. Tifa had visited him at his new apartment a few times, but she found that their relationship had stagnated and sat just out of reach out of any true reconciliation, Brian continuing to wallow in his own grief and misery and seeming only mildly interested in the changes taking place in her life. He had even forgotten her birthday that past May, he was so wrapped up in his own issues. 

Sometimes, Tifa could see the light behind his eyes as he tried to make an effort, but his depression and regret was too heavy, and almost always seemed to impede any progress they made. Tifa usually found herself ending their conversations with an acceptance that this was simply the way that things would live between them, at least, until he admitted that he needed some outside help.

Tifa didn’t know what had happened to Rufus after the trial, and she really didn’t care, either.

Sighing at this thought, Tifa shook her head and met eyes with Cloud again.

“No,” she answered. “I didn’t invite him.”

Cloud opened his mouth slightly to say something, but then closed it and simply nodded, before he pushed himself up.

“Tifa?”

“Yeah?”

“I… wanted to ask you something.”

Hearing the sudden shy, tentativeness in his voice, Tifa lifted her hand to card her fingers through his hair this time.

“Shoot.”

“I know we just moved in here,” he was looking up at her, tipping his head into the press of her fingertips against his scalp, “But I was wondering… maybe in a few years… if you’d ever consider moving back to Colorado?”

She blinked, stunned.

“Really?” she asked, pulled apart in two directions by this idea. Part of her longed for her hometown, missed the serene beauty of the West with its mountains and rural landscapes in the backdrop. But she also now had deep roots in New York, and she thought it might be difficult to pull them out.

“Yeah,” he breathed, reaching down to caress her shoulder. “I mean, not anytime soon. But maybe in the future when we’re ready to like… I don’t know. Settle down.”

“Settle down?” Tifa repeated, raising an eyebrow, her tone playful.

Cloud was blushing again. “Yeah. You know… buy a house… get married…”

“Married!” Tifa exclaimed, her heart bursting with affection at the idea.

“…have some kids,” he finished.

“Cloud!” Tifa cried, reaching out with laughter, circling her arms around his neck. “Oh, of course. Of course, I’ll move back to Colorado with you and have all of your babies.”

Cloud laughed, and the sound was so happy and joyous that Tifa felt her entire body light up again as he leaned up and captured her lips in another kiss.

“Big day ahead of us, huh?” he pulled away from her after a moment, his lips shining. “Better get out of this bed before I pin you down to it again.”

Tifa laughed, her earlier melancholic thoughts now entirely dispelled. “You’re right. We better.”

* * *

A little after ten that morning, Tifa stepped out of a taxi in Brooklyn Heights, a latte in one hand. It was mid-September, and the weather was still mild, but there was a gentle breeze in the air that was pleasantly cool.

Ahead of her, Tifa faced the small campaign headquarters that AVALANCHE was renting for the base of operations, already seeing the activity inside through the large glass panel windows. They were plastered with red, white, and blue signs that announced her candidacy against a backdrop of stars and stripes, her name in the center in bold, block lettering. _TIFA LOCKHART - A Borough President for the People_ read the slogan on the posters. She felt her heartbeat quicken as she stared up at it, smiling a little before she stepped inside.

The space had been a former retail shop that had shut down some years ago, and at present, the front floor space was filled with tables and chairs, AVALANCHE volunteers sitting in front of laptops or chattering into phones. Biggs was standing to one side, tacking sticky notes onto a large map of Brooklyn that was pasted to a wall. Across the room, Barret was waving his hands wildly in the air as he conversed with a young woman who Tifa thought she’d recognized from television.

“Hey, Tifa,” Wedge was at her side, carrying a box of campaign flyers in one arm. “I’m getting ready to hang these on doors in a few neighborhoods with Wymer and Gwen. Barret has somebody he wants you to meet.”

Tifa nodded, offering him a bright smile as he grinned at her and then turned away to depart. She glanced up to find Barret waving her over. She pulled her messenger bag off of her shoulders, dropping it onto a table before she walked over to him.

The woman he was standing beside was petite, completely diminutive in comparison to Barret’s large, overbearing frame. Her black hair was trimmed into a bob around her face, her eyes dark grey and almond-shaped, betraying an Eastern lineage. She was dressed sharply in a navy blue pencil shirt and a floral, silk blouse.

“Tifa,” Barret began, “This is Yuffie Kisaragi. You’ve probably seen her on some of the cable networks. She’s a political journalist, and wants to talk to you about the campaign.”

Yuffie took a step forward, thrusting her hand in Tifa’s direction. “Ms. Lockhart! It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m writing a series about local, rookie politicians all across the country, and your campaign caught my eye.”

“Tifa is fine,” Tifa rejoined, taking Yuffie’s hand and shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“We should take this in the back,” Barret suggested gruffly at their sides. “It can get a little noisy out here.”

Tifa nodded, and she and Yuffie both followed Barret into the back of the shop, into a small break room. He gestured for them to sit at a long table, while he chose a seat in the back of the room, crossing his arms over his massive chest as he sat and watched, ever the protective sentinel.

Tifa chose a chair at one end of the table while Yuffie fell into one beside her. She dropped an oversized purse onto the table, digging through it before fishing out a small recorder, a notebook, and a pen. She settled the recorder on the table between her and Tifa, and flipped the notepad open.

“I’d like to record this, if that’s okay?” Yuffie asked, crossing her legs under the table.

Tifa gave her head a little nod, feeling her nerves begin to shudder. She’d never been interviewed before, and she admittedly felt a little nervous about it.

“Sure,” she responded after a moment.

Yuffie offered her a bright grin, and Tifa realized that she seemed so young, as if she was recently out of college. 

“Okay, why don’t we start with a little bit about you and your campaign? I’m sure that voters would love to know more about who you are, and why you were motivated to run?”

Tifa turned back to look at Barret, and he gave her an encouraging nod, offering her one of his rare smiles. She noticed he had taken off his sunglasses, and his light brown eyes were warm and shining at her with fatherly approval. It made her smile.

Her own father may not have his life together enough to be there for her this way, but Tifa was grateful for the small blessings in her life like Barret.

“Well, I’ve been volunteering for the non-profit AVALANCHE for the last 5 years,” Tifa explained to Yuffie, watching the red light blink on her recorder. “When I first started college, I decided that I wanted to give back to my community, that I wanted to help people. A lot of people are struggling in New York, and I knew that I wanted to do something to help. I was able to do that with AVALANCHE. We do a lot in the community, through food and drives and voter registration, even helping people find work or prepare for job interviews. My friend, Biggs, set up an after school program to provide tutoring and recreation for local school children, and our CEO, Barret Wallace, created a legal defense fund to help people who had been wrongfully accused. We all work together; it’s a team effort.”

“And why did you decide to run for the office of Borough President for Brooklyn?”

Tifa folded her hands over her lap, absently pulling at the cuffs of her sweater. “It wasn’t something I really ever saw myself doing, to be honest with you - running for political office. I am actually not really a fan of most politicians, believe it or not. But, my friends and colleagues in the borough and in AVALANCHE persuaded me. I’ve been working for so long with people in this city, that they convinced me that I could have an even greater impact on the community I love if I represented it at City Hall.”

“That’s so great,” Yuffie agreed. “Can you tell me more about what you’d actually do if you were elected?”

Tifa nodded. “Well, the office of Borough President is a very unique one in the city’s governmental organization. It’s responsible for advocating for the needs of the people in the borough to the mayor and the city council. Since I’ve been working in Brooklyn for so long, I know what the community needs. I would focus on making sure that we are adequately considered during the yearly budget process. I have a background in finance, and I would develop a budget for the borough that would make sure that City Hall provides us with enough financial support and resources to properly fund our schools, hospitals, and other community initiatives. I’m also a strong believer in environmental protections, so I would make sure that land-use proposals are not harmful to the environment before they are approved. And I would for sure, absolutely appoint committee members that are diverse and that would best represent and serve the needs of every constituent in the borough.”

Yuffie nodded, jotting something into her notebook.

“Your opponent has made several statements about you, accusing you of being out of touch because of your wealthy upbringing and your past work with the disgraced investment firm Shinra Capitol last year. What is your response to such allegations?”

Tifa resisted the urge to sigh, suspecting that the conversation might turn in this direction. Her fingers fiddled in her lap, and after a moment, she looked up to find Yuffie’s slate-gray eyes watching her expectantly.

“I think it’s very important to recognize one’s privilege,” Tifa began. “It is true, that I grew up without ever having to worry about my next meal, with a lot more than most people have. But it’s taught me how inequitable life sometimes is, and it is actually the reason that I want to change things.”

She leaned forward, watching Yuffie nod her head in response as she continued to scribble into her notebook. “And working for Shinra… I was only there for a very short time, but the greatest lesson that I learned was that there is often hidden corruption that makes things even more unfair for so many people, and it needs to be dealt with purposefully. That is another reason I wanted to run for office. I want to hold people and organizations like Shinra accountable when they abuse the public’s trust.”

This had Yuffie smiling widely. “That reminds me,” she continued. “Next year’s Borough President election is taking place the same time as the New York Governor’s race. As you know, U.S. Attorney Reeve Tuesti recently announced his run. He’s on the same party ticket as you are. Do you have any thoughts about his candidacy?”

Tifa held her smile. The truth was, she was largely indifferent about Reeve Tuesti, especially after the trial and all of the drama that had unfolded in its wake. But she did get the sense that he was genuinely invested in doing the right thing for the people, and for that, Tifa really couldn’t fault him.

“I think he’ll make a great governor,” Tifa responded sincerely.

Yuffie peppered her with a few more questions about her campaign and her future goals, and eventually, the interview ended. The young woman stored everything back in her purse, then offered Tifa her hand again with a smile.

“Thanks so much, Tifa. It was so great to speak to you! I’ve been interested in politics for a long time. My father was the Prime Minister of Japan for many years when I was a schoolgirl. It’s always so inspiring to me to see women in government.”

“Wow,” Tifa exhaled, her cheeks lighting up as she smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

“I’ll be publishing my piece in _Politico_ in a few weeks,” Yuffie added. “I hope you enjoy it. Good luck!”

Tifa nodded, watching as Yuffie waved goodbye to Barret before she left the room. When she was gone, Barret rose to his feet, crossing over to her and dropping his heavy hand on her shoulder. Tifa looked up at him where he towered over her.

“You did great, Teef,” he praised, his grin warm and genuine. “I’m really proud of you. I’ve watched you grow so much these last few months. Ain’t seen nothin’ like it, I tell ya. Brooklyn is lucky to have you.”

Tifa couldn’t stop the way that she blushed, shaking her head a little as she glanced down at her boots. “Thanks, Barret. But I couldn’t have done it without you. I still think you’d make a better Borough President.”

Barret chuckled, sliding his shades back on. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze, though under his massive biceps it felt more like the grip of a vice, causing her to wince as he throttled her. “Nah, this one’s for you, kid. I’ve got my perfect gig already. And I know you’re gonna blow this out of the water.”

Tifa only smiled, shaking her head again as her cheeks continued to flare.

“Anyway, we got work to do. Phone calls to make - people love it when the candidates reach out to them directly - and I think Biggs has some polling data he wants us to review. Might help us with finetuning our strategy,” he advised as he released her.

“You’re right,” Tifa agreed, nodding her head as they turned to head back onto the campaign floor. “Let’s get to work.”

* * *

“I absolutely love this apartment, Tifa!”

Aerith, dressed in a bright pink denim jacket over a candy-striped sheath dress, was bending over the edge of the brick railing that lined the deck to the apartment Tifa and Cloud shared in Williamsburg, overlooking a view of the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan in the distance. The deck was generously sized, three glass and iron tables settled in a row across it, the railing bordered by yellow lilies that Aerith had gifted them when they first moved in. It was Aerith’s first time visiting, and she had gushed her way through every room that Tifa led her through.

“Thanks, Aerith,” Tifa replied. She was standing in the center of the deck with her hands on her hips, wearing a black and white houndstooth bodycon dress that was belted at the waist, her hair pulled high into a ponytail, and her legs wrapped in black, suede, lace-up boots. “Do you think this is going to be enough space?”

Aerith turned around. Today, she was wearing her hair loose, and it spilled in a wavy tumble around her shoulders. Aerith rarely wore makeup, but today she’d rimmed her eyes with dark liner and a hint of a sparkly magenta eye shadow, her lips bright with a sunny pink gloss. She brought her hand up to her chin, tapping it as she thought.

“I think this is perfect,” she decided, her emerald green eyes sparkling as she winked at Tifa. “For the amount of people you’re having over, it will work out well. I’m so excited for tonight, Tifa! I can’t wait to see Cloud’s book.”

“You’re going to be seriously impressed,” Tifa agreed. “But never mind all that. You look so gorgeous today! Zack is absolutely going to lose his mind. You’re irresistible.”

Aerith actually blushed, and she waved her hand to and fro in the air in front of her. “Oh, stop it, Tifa! Please! Just look at you, in that dress! It’s just too much to handle. Cloud is going to have you out of it before we crack open the first bottle of wine.”

Tifa chuckled, now her turn to blush. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. My birth control is really effective, Aerith. It’s a small wonder that I haven’t fallen pregnant yet. He’s kind of ridiculous.”

Aerith laughed so brightly that she began to clap her hands in front of her several times in excitement. “Oh gosh, I just love that. Zack is just as bad, Tifa. These boys are _insatiable_.”

Tifa nodded, joining Aerith in her laughter.

“Oh, my god, Tifa,” Aerith blurted. “I just remembered something. Here - I have to show you this.”

“What is it? Tifa asked, watching as Aerith began to dig through her purse that was sitting on one of the tables.

“Just - oh my god,” she repeated. She pulled out her phone, typing something into the screen. Tifa watched as she searched through it, before she turned it toward Tifa and offered it to her.

Tifa accepted the device, squinting down at the screen’s glow. “US Weekly?” She asked, intrigued.

Aerith could barely contain her enthusiasm. “Just scroll down,” she squealed.

Tifa quirked an eyebrow; celebrity news sites were not her thing. She scrolled through the page, though, her mouth dropping open when images of Rufus Shinra appeared on the screen, a cache of candid paparazzi photos. He was with Tseng in all of them, and some of them were… intimate. There was an image of them walking arm in arm down a narrow cobblestone street, another where they were photographed dining in a curved booth in a restaurant, seated close to one another in the dim lighting, Tseng’s arm behind Rufus’ shoulders as Rufus sipped on a glass of wine. Another photo showed him climbing into the backseat of a dark vehicle with strange plates, a coffee in one hand, Tseng holding the car door for him. In the final picture, Rufus was seen stepping inside of a fancy hotel late at night, Tseng behind him with his hand pressed to the small of his back, Rufus looking back in the direction of the camera with his tell-tale simper.

Tifa’s jaw remained slack as she looked back up at Aerith.

“Dear god,” she murmured.

“Read it!” Aerith cried, suddenly jumping up and down where she stood.

Tifa blinked, dumbfounded, and began to scroll again to the text of the article. Her eyes widened as she began to read out loud.

“ _Rufus Shinra, former Vice President of the scandal-plagued and now-defunct investment firm Shinra Capitol, was recently seen in Prague with his lawyer and longtime lover, Tseng Taikoro. They have been spotted dining and taking extended stays at some of the city’s most exclusive restaurants and hotels._

_“Rufus was found guilty of insider trading during a June trial where Shinra’s chief executives were prosecuted in federal court for fraud and conspiracy, but avoided incarceration, instead hit with heavy fines and the seizure of assets. For more on the meteoric collapse of Shinra Capitol, please turn to our full coverage on page 53 - ‘The Belly of the Beast - The Rise and Fall of Shinra Capitol_ ’.”

Tifa looked up at Aerith with her mouth still agape.

“ _Longtime_ lover?” she repeated, stunned.

Aerith just laughed, high pitched and practically manic. “Tifa, I just _can’t_. I don’t usually read those types of magazines, but I went back through some old articles about Rufus, and oh my goodness. Apparently, he’s been on and off with Tseng for a while, but nobody’s ever been able to confirm it. It’s just been gossip based on photos that the tabloids have posted about them. Rufus has dated a few female socialites too, but they never last. Tseng’s always there, though.”

Tifa’s shocked expression pulled back into a smile, and she shook her head as she began to laugh, handing Aerith back her phone. “Well, that explains why Tseng hated me so much.”

Aerith scrutinized one of the photos a little bit before she set her phone down. “Is it just me, or does it look like Rufus’ jaw is still a little crooked from where Cloud decked him?”

Tifa giggled even more. “Oh, Aerith, stop.”

Aerith snickered, dropping her phone into her purse again. “I thought that would bring a smile to your face,” she told her. “Anyway. Speaking of Shinra… how are things going with your father? Especially following the trial?”

Tifa sighed, the mirth of their earlier conversation slipping away as she crossed over to the ledge, leaning over and looking out over the city skyline. It was a little after five in the evening, and the sun was just beginning to sink against the horizon, the sky now painted with wide strokes of fuchsia and amber. 

“I don’t know, Aerith,” Tifa began. “Since the trial, he really hasn’t been doing well. He’s started to drink more than I have ever seen him. He hasn’t been able to work, and I’m worried about him drinking straight through what’s left of his savings.” She lowered her eyes, shaking her head. “I just… sometimes I think he’s trying, but… it’s just really hard for him. He’s so broken after all of this. I don’t know if he can ever really fully turn around.”

Aerith crossed the deck and came to stand beside her, dropping her hand to Tifa’s forearm. Her palm was warm, and something in her touch radiated a sense of calm over her.

“I understand, Tifa,” she breathed carefully. “You’re doing your best with him, and that’s all you can ask of yourself. He’s your dad, and it's his responsibility to make things right after everything that he’s done. Maybe he will figure it out, and maybe he won’t. It’s hard to say with these things, Tifa. But as long as you are no longer carrying that anger on your heart, you’ll be okay.”

“I’ve let it go,” Tifa admitted for the first time out loud.

“Good,” Aerith replied, giving her arm a little squeeze. “And at least you’ve got Cloud. Gosh, that boy loves you so much.”

Tifa smiled again, blushing a little as she thought about him, recalling their conversation early that morning in bed.

“Aerith,” Tifa began. “Cloud… Cloud asked me if I would ever want to move back to Colorado with him.”

“What?” Aerith demanded, clearly taken aback as she turned to face Tifa fully. “But you just got this apartment! And what about the election?”

“Not now,” Tifa stopped her, letting out an airy laugh. “Like, in the future, years from now. He, um, wants to get married when we are older.”

“Oh, gosh, Tifa!” Aerith practically screamed.

“…and have babies,” Tifa added, and Aerith was jumping up and down again.

“Goodness, that boy is so smitten!” Aerith cried, her voice bright and wild, colored with excitement. “Honestly, I knew it the very first day I met him, outside of the apartment. It was written all over his face in the way that he looked at you. I think he’s been in love with you for a very, very long time, Tifa.”

Tifa only smiled, feeling warmed over again as she thought back on the teasing words that Cloud’s mother had shared back on her hospital bed, causing Cloud to turn red with embarrassment.

“You might be right,” she agreed. “And how about you and Zack?”

Aerith just laughed. “Well, Zack has certainly never said anything to me about _marriage_ ,” she replied. “But I can see myself staying with him for a long time.”

Tifa nodded, her smile expanding into a grin. “You guys are cute.”

“Thanks, Tifa,” Aerith said. “Come on, let’s go inside and get the appetizers ready. I ordered all of the drinks with this new liquor delivery app on my phone, and everything should be here soon. Everyone will be arriving in a couple of hours.”

Tifa backed away from the ledge, nodding her head. “Okay, let’s finish getting ready.”

* * *

“Cloud Strife?”

Cloud looked up from where he sat in the waiting room of his doctor’s practice, finding the receptionist standing by the rear doorway of the office.

“The doctor is ready to see you now.”

Cloud nodded, rising slowly to his feet, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He crossed the room, following the receptionist to the back. She led him down a short hallway, stopping by the door and gesturing for him to enter.

When she disappeared, Cloud entered the small office and looked around. It was quaint and nicely decorated, a couch in one corner, potted plants lining the bookshelves, framed degrees hanging from the wall behind the desk. The left wall was paneled with floor to ceiling windows, and Cloud’s eyes caught a man standing in front of them, overlooking the city below.

He turned at the sound of the door closing, offering Cloud a toothy smile.

“Ah, Cloud. Please, have a seat.”

Cloud nodded, making his way over to the chair in front of the desk.

Cloud had started seeing his therapist at the beginning of the summer. Even though he had worked through a lot of his issues with Tifa - who had a degree in psychology and was just an overall great fucking listener - he was still at times visited by nightmares or found himself triggered to the brink of a panic attack. Tifa became convinced that he was suffering from a case of post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of his experiences in the war, and she had gently suggested he see a qualified therapist. Cloud had been hesitant at first, not really thinking he could bring himself to open up to a stranger about his problems.

Dr. Nanaki had been recommended to Tifa by one of her old undergrad classmates, and Cloud had finally broken down and had his first session with him in July. Nanaki was young - maybe in his late twenties or early thirties - a recently minted PhD who had only opened his practice in Queens just a little over two years ago. It made Cloud feel a little bit more comfortable around him and talking to him.

Nanaki was an indigenous Native American, his skin ruddy and dark, his long, black hair dyed a flaming bright red at its tips, fashioned into a braid that trailed his back. Despite the formal dress that he chose for the office - dark, wool suits and sweaters - Cloud could see the way that he still embraced his culture. The few times that Cloud had seen him with short sleeves or his sleeves rolled up, he noticed the assortment of tribal tattoos that covered his arms, and it was evident in the beaded and woven jewelry around his wrists and neck, even in the decor and paintings hung in his office. And he and Cloud had instantly bonded over their shared birthplaces out West, where Nanaki had grown up, his parents originally part of the Navajo Nation in Arizona.

Nanaki crossed the room when Cloud sat, settling himself into his seat at the desk across from him. He opened a file in front of him before he looked up at Cloud and offered him a smile.

Nanaki was a handsome young man, but his left eye was disfigured, marred by a thin, cross-stitched scar that trailed the side of his face. Cloud found it sometimes distracting, but he didn’t dare ask how it had happened.

“It’s good to see you again, Cloud,” he greeted, leaning back in his chair a little.

“You too, Dr. Nanaki,” Cloud responded, returning his smile.

Nanaki waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Please, I’ve told you. Everyone calls me Red. This doctor business… it is just far too much. I don’t really place a lot of value on titles.”

Cloud nodded. “Okay, Red.”

Red held his smile, then glanced down at the folder in front of him, pushing some papers to the side as he examined them. He looked up at Cloud.

“So, how have you been?” he asked.

Cloud scratched the back of his neck, thinking. Things had been much better in recent weeks, that much was for sure. But they certainly weren’t perfect.

“I’ve been okay,” Cloud answered, giving his head a little shake. “I did have one, really bad dream last week. It was really hard for me to concentrate for the rest of the day.”

Red nodded slowly, digesting this information. “I see. Would you like to talk about this dream with me?”

Cloud swallowed, pouring over it. Whenever the nightmares captured him in the dead center of the night, waking him with his body covered in sweat as he sat up in bed, he tried to do everything in his power to shove away the traumatic memories that they unearthed. But as he had begun to learn over his last few sessions with Nanaki, sometimes talking out what had happened helped him to resolve them, filing them away with finality and finally being able to find some closure over the events.

“I know I told you about my comrades - Kunsel, Essai, and Sebastian,” Cloud began. “And how they - how they died. But this time was different. It was about one of our commanders.”

“Oh?” Red prodded.

Cloud swallowed, feeling his palms begin to sweat as he dredged up the old memory. “Y-yeah. General Sephiroth. He commanded our unit for a while, taking over after Angeal had been injured. He was… remarkably cruel.”

Red only nodded, waiting for Cloud to elaborate.

“A lot of times, we had to go into civilian villages,” Cloud continued. “There were often insurgents hiding there, and whenever we got intelligence, we were dispatched to root them out. We were always as careful as possible to not involve civilians. I mean, sometimes there were casualties, of course, but… we tried to avoid them. But Sephiroth… he just didn’t care. Whenever we went into one of these villages under his command, he would lay ruin to everything. Civilians - even women and children weren’t safe from his wrath. Sometimes the streets would run red with blood before he was finished, and he’d order us to stay silent. He even set fire to one small encampment, trying to burn the insurgents out of hiding. It was… it was terrible. He should have been tried for war crimes.”

Nanaki remained silent for a long moment, his eyes holding Cloud’s. When Cloud said nothing else for a while, he leaned forward in his seat.

“I can see how that might be very traumatizing for you,” He conceded. “Let me ask you something, though.”

“Yeah?” Cloud answered.

“When we talked about your fallen friends - Kunsel, Essai, and Sebastian - you told me that you felt terrible that you couldn’t save them during the ambush, that you’d gotten to them too late. That you felt like a failure.”

“Yeah,” Cloud breathed in agreement.

“Do you think that you feel the same way about this commander and these villages? That you blame yourself? For not being able to stop him, perhaps?”

Cloud looked down at his hands, absently picking at the callouses in his palms.

“Do you remember what I told you before?”

Cloud nodded slowly, Nanaki’s words to him during a previous session returning. “That I had to let go of the guilt, that I can’t blame myself for things that are outside of my control. That… I’ll feel lighter when I start to accept.”

“That’s right,” Red agreed. “And have you begun to let go of the guilt over your comrades’ deaths? Have you started to accept?”

Cloud looked up again, meeting Nanaki’s eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Have those nightmares stopped?”

Cloud thought about this. “Yeah. I think that they have.”

“Good,” Nanaki responded. “Then you must do the same here. You must understand that this commander’s behavior is not a reflection of you, that it was outside of your control. That as a soldier, you did your best, and you tried your hardest. No one can fault you for that, least of all yourself. But you must accept what happened and move on from it.”

Cloud nodded, feeling tears threaten the corners of his eyes.

Nanaki leaned forward, offering a warm, brown hand, his wrist circled with a woven bracelet that was colored with tribal patterns in the string. “I know that this is difficult. And you spent nearly six years at intermittent phases of the war. There are probably many more memories from that time that will threaten you as you close the door on the violence of previous ones. You must remain strong. I know that you are.”

He extended his hand further, and Cloud reached forward for it, dropping his into Nanaki’s. The therapist closed his palm around Cloud’s, enveloping him with a gentle warmth.

“I know that you can do it,” Nanaki finished.

Cloud felt his lips pull into a smile, and he blinked away the tears.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

* * *

It was a couple of hours later when Cloud found himself in the back seat of a taxi, staring at the strip of highway as they traveled in the direction of John F. Kennedy airport. He was on his way to pick up his mother; she was planning to attend their housewarming and also stay for a few days in the advent of the release of Cloud’s novel. He was already lighting up with excitement over her visit, since he hadn’t seen her since he’d left Colorado with Tifa following her hospital stay.

He was still thinking over his therapist’s words as they drove along, ruminating on his feelings of guilt that Nanaki had been so readily able to identify. Cloud knew that he was right, knew that he had to begin to disassemble the deep feelings of inadequacy that were tied to so many moments he had experienced during his deployment. They were things that were simply outside of his control.

He was feeling a little better. Already, he had let go of his guilt over Kunsel, Essai, and Sebastian. He had begun to forgive himself, let go of the tragedy of their deaths and held on to their memories.

Surely he could do the same with the pain he felt over General Sephiroth, and all the other moments of the war that still plagued him.

He watched as the airport loomed in the distance, the taxi falling in line with the slow crawl of the vehicles that pulled up near the terminal, waiting for loved ones to be picked up. Cloud sat up, peering through the glass and scanning the crowds, looking for his mother.

Eventually, he spotted her - standing near the curb holding on to a rolling carry-on bag, her bright yellow ponytail and blue floral shirt-dress standing out amongst the drab grey concrete architecture of the terminal. He indicated for the cabbie to pull over, and as soon as they stopped, Cloud hopped out while the cabbie popped the trunk.

“Mom!”

She looked up at him from the curb, her face instantly breaking out into a wide grin when she sighted him. He ran up to her and hugged her, Claudia bubbling over with laughter at the sight of her son. He instantly grabbed her luggage, taking her hand in his.

“Cloud, sweetheart,” she greeted him, patting his cheek gently. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too. Come on, Mom,” he told her, leading her to the taxi. “Let’s get going.”

He led her to the taxi, throwing her luggage in the trunk before they both climbed into the backseat. As soon as the cabbie pulled away from the airport and began to travel the connecting expressways, Claudia leaned forward to look out of the window.

“I have never been to the East Coast before,” she sighed, drinking in the scenery. “I am so excited to see all of the sights.”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go this week, Mom,” Cloud promised. 

Claudia turned to him, wearing her sunny smile again.

“That would be lovely, sweetheart.” She reached over the seat to take Cloud’s hand in hers.

“How have you been feeling?” Cloud asked her.

“Oh, I’ve been much better,” she replied. “My doctor thinks that I’ve made a lot of progress. Some of the changes have been difficult, I will say - I really had a hard time changing some of my recipes.” Claudia laughed, giving her head a little shake as her smile widened. “But in the end, I manage. Linda has been a big help. I don’t really have anyone to cook for, so when she comes by for dinner, I’m always happy to hear she still thinks my cooking is okay.”

For some reason, this left Cloud feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. He turned to his mother in the backseat.

“Mom,” he started. “Are you sure you don’t need me to move back home?”

Claudia scoffed, shaking her head dramatically in response. “Cloud, I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m fine. And you just moved into your new apartment with Tifa! Don’t worry about me, darling.”

Cloud nodded, returning his mother’s smile, and although he knew that he couldn’t help but worry, he tried to shove it aside.

“Okay, Mom,” he answered.

“Speaking of,” Claudia went on, “I can’t wait to see your new place. I bet Tifa did a great job of decorating it, too. Lorelai was always so good at such things.”

“I bet it would make Tifa really happy to hear that,” Cloud remarked, and Claudia just smiled.

It wasn’t much longer before they returned to Brooklyn, and Claudia stared out of the window the entire time, in awe of the views and sights of the city. When they pulled up in front of Cloud and Tifa’s new brownstone in Williamsburg, Cloud hopped out first to grab Claudia’s luggage from the trunk.

When the taxi disappeared, Claudia stood by the curb, brushing off her dress and looking around at the street beyond. Cars passed by on the road, and at the early evening hour, people were still out in full force on the sidewalks, children playing in front of nearby houses, groups of teenagers walking down the street in packs. Cloud stood at her side, watching as she wrinkled her nose and looked around.

“Wow,” she breathed, turning to Cloud. “This is so much different from Colorado.”

Cloud offered her a shrug. “It takes some getting used to. Come on.”

He led her inside, and they went up to the second floor where he and Tifa’s apartment was located. They stepped first into the living room, which Tifa had decorated in shades of cream and warm, chocolate browns, highlighted by deep teals in the details of the curtains and the piece of abstract art that hung from over the back of the couch. Claudia dropped her hands to her waist as Cloud shut the door behind her, looking around approvingly.

“I knew it,” she remarked. “This is lovely.”

“I’ll drop your stuff off in the guest room,” Cloud told her.

Before he could maneuver through the hallway, Tifa and Aerith appeared from the kitchen. Cloud took one look at Tifa and stopped in his tracks, his eyes instantly drawing a trail along her body, tracing her from head to toe. He was instantly floored by all of it - her pretty face, eyes rimmed with kohl and her mouth shining with shimmery red gloss. Her hair was pulled up high into a ponytail, and Cloud couldn’t stop the way that he was imagining pulling on that thick rope of hair while he pushed her dress up and bent her over.

And that _dress_. It was practically painted onto her body, every bend and curve fully highlighted in winding hills and valleys. The black and white cross-stitched pattern made his vision blur, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from hovering over the wide black leather belt at her waist that made her hips appear even fuller. Somehow, it was at once the classiest and hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen, and he was beginning to smell smoke when his brain started to fry.

_Goddamnit_.

“Tifa!” His mother exclaimed, pulling him out of his daydream. She glanced at him and winked, seemingly knowing where her son’s mind was headed.

“Hi, Claudia,” Tifa greeted, and then crossed the room to give Cloud’s mother a hug. “I’m so glad that you could make it. You are going to be so proud when you see Cloud’s book!”

“I can’t wait,” Claudia agreed, smiling back at Cloud, who just waved them both off as he felt his face heat up. “I have never been prouder in my life. I always knew that you could do it, baby.”

“Mom…” Cloud whined in embarrassment, just as Aerith giggled.

“Claudia, this is my best friend, Aerith,” Tifa introduced. “Aerith, this is Cloud’s mom, Claudia.”

Claudia extended her hand, but Aerith was running forward gleefully, enveloping the older woman in a tight hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Aerith exclaimed. 

Claudia just laughed from all of the affection, hugging Aerith back. “It’s nice to meet you, too, darling.”

Aerith giggled and stepped back, angling up to Tifa’s side and squeezing her arm in hers.

Claudia began to look around the living room again, a wide smile plastered on her face. “Did you decorate the interior, Tifa?”

Tifa nodded diffidently. “I did,” and when Cloud saw the way that her cheeks began to match the color of her lips, he almost lost it.

“You did such a wonderful job,” Claudia complimented. “I just adore the color scheme. It’s so… rustic, almost like being back home. Your mother always was so creative, too. She had such good fashion and design sense. It’s no wonder that you do, too.”

Tifa blushed even harder. “T-thanks, Claudia. That means a lot to me.”

Cloud’s eyes met hers, then, and Tifa offered him a shy smile before she looked down at her boots. Cloud had to swallow several times to keep from choking on his own oxygen.

“What is that smell?” Claudia suddenly asked. “Are you girls cooking?”

Aerith perked up at this. “Yes! We decided to focus on a smorgasbord of appetizers tonight. I’ve got a shrimp cocktail chilling in the fridge, and Tifa just finished the wings and sliders. We still have to finish the potato skins and the mini tacos. Oh, what else Tifa’?

“Mozzarella sticks and pigs in a blanket,” Tifa responded.

Claudia nodded, rolling the sleeves of her dress up. “Well, let me help you. This is my area of expertise!”

With that, she followed Aerith, who was giggling again, into the kitchen. Tifa turned to follow, but Cloud stepped forward with two long strides and captured her wrist in his hand.

“Tifa.”

Tifa smiled, turning to face him, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, and Cloud instantly knew she was fucking with him.

“Yes, love?” she responded coyly.

Cloud shook the mist from his head. “Is that a new dress?”

Tifa looked down at herself, still holding her quixotic smile. “Oh, do you like it? Today’s a special day, so I wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Goddamnit, Tifa,” Cloud heard himself practically growl. “Quit teasing me. Or else you’re gonna regret it.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tifa leaned forward and pressed a manicured fingertip to the center of his lips. “You’re just going to have to be patient, Lover Boy. Now, I need to get in the kitchen. I can’t leave Aerith around any open flames, not even with your mom around to supervise.”

“Fine,” Cloud finally relented, dropping her wrist and smirking at her. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tifa laughed at that, turning away to head inside of the kitchen. “Challenge accepted.”

Cloud watched her ass the entire time she walked away, licking his lips until she disappeared.

_Jesus. Fuck._

* * *

Several hours later - after Aerith helped Tifa string fairy lights along the outside of the deck to filter a warm glow now that it had begun to grow dark outside, Claudia bringing trays of food wrapped in foil out to the patio, several of their friends began to arrive. Barret, Gwen, and Folia were the first, carting along Marlene and Denzel with them.

“Tifa!” Marlene exclaimed as soon as she saw her, the little girl running up to her to give her a hug. She collided into Tifa with her arms wrapped around her waist, causing Tifa to light up with laughter.

“Marlene! How have you been, sweetheart?”

Cloud watched with a hint of a smile on his face as Tifa crouched down in front of her, Marlene beginning to gush with stories about school and her friends. Denzel, on the other hand, began to wander the living room, stopping in front of a model of a motorcycle that Cloud had propped up on one of the shelves of the entertainment center.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s so awesome!”

Cloud nodded, dropping his hands into his pockets as he stepped next to the boy. “That’s a 1977 Harley Davidson Sportster,” he explained. “One of the coolest bikes ever made. One of these days, I’m gonna buy a motorcycle of my own. Though it’s not the best form of transportation for the city. Just something I’ve always wanted.”

“Will you take me on a ride on your motorcycle when you get one, Cloud?” Denzel asked, pupils wide.

Cloud offered him a smile, ruffling his floppy, ash-brown hair. “Sure, kid.”

The others soon began to arrive not much later after that. Biggs arrived with Jessie, who was wearing her hair loose and curled around her shoulders, dressed in a red and brown, long-sleeved, A-line dress and carrying a shopping bag full of bottles of hard liquor with her as Biggs carried another tray of appetizers at her side. Wymer and Wedge soon joined them, carrying armfuls of beer, and Zack, who was no longer in the Academy and was now a full-time police officer, was the last to arrive, still wearing his uniform, which he unbuttoned at the collar, Aerith instantly swooning and rushing him as soon as he stepped out onto the balcony.

Cloud stood off to the side with a beer in one hand, watching as his friends began to eat and congregate outside. It was just after eight in the evening, and the sky was now almost full dark, shadowed to a deep, plum and violet shade, the lights of the bridges and the skyscrapers in the distance beyond lighting up the heavens with a cool, fluorescent glow. Everyone had gravitated outside now, and Cloud sipped his beer quietly with his hand in his pocket as the noisy scene unfolded in front of him.

Claudia had gotten on well with everyone, and Cloud realized how different he was from his mother in a way that he hadn’t really noticed when he was growing up. She was energized by the small crowd, happy to chat with everyone and genuinely interested in learning about each of them. At present, she was sitting at one table with both Marlene and Denzel crowded around her, while Barret, Gwen, and Folia sat across from her, Claudia laughing and gesturing with her hands in the air as she spoke.

Cloud was smiling at the scene when suddenly, Tifa appeared from the doorway that led inside of the house, clutching a book to her chest. Behind her, Biggs was carrying a cardboard box over his arms, and he carefully placed it on the floor.

“Hey, guys?” She called over the din of chatter, and everyone turned to her where she stood. “It’s time!”

The porch fell silent, eyes falling on Tifa as she held up the book she was holding. Cloud felt his cheeks begin to burn off, and he couldn’t help but look away as Tifa waved the hardcover in the air.

“It’s called _Destiny’s Crossroads_ ,” Tifa gushed, practically bubbling over with excitement as she held the book in front of her bosom. The cover featured an image of a tall, skyscraper-like structure, a man in dark fatigues facing the building with his hand on the hilt of a sword behind him as he looked up at it.

“What’s it about, Cloud?” Denzel asked from where he sat. 

Cloud wanted to hide. He knew that they were planning to share his book with all of his friends to celebrate, but now that it was actually happening, he felt largely uncomfortable with all of the sudden scrutiny and attention.

Tifa seemed to pick up on this, because she was crossing in his direction, looping her arm through his and pulling him close. He could pick up her scent, warm melted vanilla dripped over her skin, and almost instantly, the flare of anxiety he was experiencing began to quell.

“It’s about a former military operative in a fantasy kingdom. He joins a rebel organization that is fighting against an evil corporation for sucking the planet dry of all of its resources, just like the oil companies.” Tifa explained in a rush, her voice sunny and bright, her smile wide, and Cloud’s head began to spin from her summarization. “But that isn’t the real threat. Ugh, guys! You just have to read it! It’s so good!”

Cloud’s face began to hurt, he was grinning so hard.

Biggs started passing around copies of the novel to everyone, Cloud watching as eyes widened all around the patio, thumbs turning through the pages, eyes scanning the synopsis on the back of the book. Seeing the physical copies in their hands suddenly made this feel even more real than it had before, and Cloud realized his throat was beginning to constrict, and he fought back the urge to cry.

Tifa was handing him a pen. “You know you have to sign everyone’s copy, right?”

Cloud smirked at her, catching her dark crimson eyes sparkling under the warmth of the fairy lights that bordered the deck. Her lips were full and pouty as she smiled up at him, and instantly, he felt the prideful, nervous swell inside of him transform into a raging blaze. He slid the pen into his pocket, his eyes dropping to draw a long trail over her shape.

“Later,” he whispered, pulling on her arm. “Come here.”

“Cloud - “ she protested, but Cloud was dragging her back inside of the house, slipping through the back door while the others were distracted as they chattered and raved about his book.

“What are you doing?” Tifa demanded when he stole her away into the kitchen.

But Cloud was still pulling on her with his hand now around her wrist. 

“I told you, I wouldn’t be able to wait.”

He led her through the back of the house, pushing her into the bathroom and locking the door behind them.

“Cloud - “ Tifa tried again, but he was instantly crowding her against the wall in the bathroom, his hands now ravishing her body, gripping palmfuls of her with rough squeezes, grasping at her breasts and her bottom, at the dip in her waist as his lips dropped to hers, kissing her savagely as his tongue pressed and prodded at the seam of her lips.

She moaned against his mouth, and Cloud felt Tifa’s body come fully alive under his coarse touches within a matter of seconds. She rolled her hips towards his groin, and Cloud growled, dropping his lips to her neck as he began to suck and lightly nip at her flesh there.

Tifa hummed breathily, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist, her arms coming around his neck so that she could begin to pull her fingers through his hair, tugging at his strands until he was wincing.

Still attacking the side of her throat, Cloud dropped one hand between her legs, under the hem of her skirt. Instantly, she was spreading her thighs for him, still writhing beneath him while his free hand settled on her waist, attempting to hold her still. He brushed his fingers along the insides of her thighs, causing her to gasp out and tip her head back against the wall, her eyes squeezing shut. Smirking kisses into her jaw, Cloud lifted his fingers and stroked two deft fingers along the seam of lacy material there, finding her damp and hot.

“Oh, Cloud, please,” Tifa whined at him, hooking her leg higher around his waist and angling her hips up at his even deeper.

“I knew it,” Cloud murmured into her skin. “Making a mess already. Did you miss me, Teef?” As if to illustrate his point, he gently pressed his fingertips into the wet fabric, lifting up to brush against the ridgy button of her clit that was trapped beneath the material, and Tifa keened and rocked into him.

“Please,” she begged again, her hand coming up to his shoulder, gripping him impossibly tight as he began to gently rub her through the fabric, keeping his pressure light but just enough to have her trembling.

“You like that?” he whispered right into her ear after a moment.

“Yes… please, baby,” she cried, locking her leg around him tight in an attempt to encourage him to bring her closer.

Cloud laughed darkly, kissing her in intermittent trails all over her face before he gave her pussy a little pat and then pulled away.

She whined a protest, lowering her leg, and Cloud looked down at her to see that her eyes were glassy and wet, pupils blown open wide, and her breath was heavy and ragged, escaping in harsh puffs from red, dewy lips.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he told her, unable to control himself. He grabbed her arms and locked them together at the wrists, pinning them above her head and tipping his head to the side to admire the long curves of her body with her stretched out this way.

“Please, Cloud,” she pleaded again, and it was all she needed to say.

Cloud quickly began to twist open his pants with one hand, letting them drop as he pulled his erection free from his underwear, sore and straining for release. He dropped his hand to the hem of Tifa’s dress, this time bunching it all the way up all the way over her hips to her waist, exposing her pale thighs and the black strip of lace that was shielding her desire from him. He licked his lips at the sight of it, then ripped them off of her in one movement, the flimsy material tearing away into nothing.

“Cloud!” Tifa immediately chastised as he shoved the ruined fabric into his pocket.

But Cloud just ignored her, laughing again. “Keep your hands above your head,” he demanded, and Tifa obeyed, gasping as he hooked his arms under her thighs and lifted her up, pinning her with his hands flat against the wall while he pressed his body against hers.

“Oh, my god,” Tifa trilled as she realized what was happening.

Cloud only continued to laugh in response, now carefully guiding his hard tip to her soaked entrance. He slid inside of her, Tifa wincing and whimpering as he pressed deep, the angle letting him reach a spot that had her instantly wailing. His vision turning red from the sounds she was making, Cloud made sure that their bodies were as close together as possible while he thrust into her with a fast, brutal pace, putting pressure on her sensitive, engorged nub while he tore into her, her wails only increasing in volume with the added measure of pleasure.

“Shhh,” he scolded her right in her ear, stopping just long enough to cover her mouth with one palm, before he let it slide away when she’d quieted down, only to wrap around her throat and gently squeeze. “You want everyone to know the way that I tear your pussy up?”

“Fuck,” was all Tifa breathed out in response, and it was enough to send Cloud headfirst into the stars.

Unfortunately, Tifa wasn’t able to keep quiet after that, and Cloud stopped giving a fuck; her screams of his name and her bright, piercing cries and sobs were enough to keep him living for the next one hundred years. He felt her as she broke apart and came twice with wild, intense shivers, and he dropped his mouth to hers each time, swallowing her elation with his kisses. Eventually, he finally concentrated fully on driving towards his own climax, eventually spilling deep inside of her, Tifa finally lowering her arms to wrap them around his neck and kiss his face contently as he descended.

Carefully, he lowered his hands from the wall and gently placed Tifa back on the floor on her feet, the heels of her boots clicking against the tile. Her makeup was wet and smeared around her eyes, and her breathing was heavy and ragged, and Cloud could almost swear he could hear her heartbeat alongside his from where he stood.

Expelling a heavy sigh, Cloud carefully fixed Tifa’s dress, pulling it down over her hips and smoothing the soft material while she tried to collect her breath. He then focused on righting his own clothing, taking a moment to quickly wash his hands in the sink.

Tifa was sighing, wiping the sweat from her brow and the tears from under her eyes when Cloud turned to her, taking a step forward and wrapping an arm around her consolingly.

“You okay?” he asked her softly.

Tifa hummed, leaning against him and nodding before she lifted up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Better than okay,” Tifa answered. “I love you, Cloud.”

“I love you too, Tifa,” he rejoined, feeling his heart swell, and he reached down to take her wrist in his hand again.

“And I _am_ really proud of you,” she told him. “Everyone is going to love your story so much. And I know you are going to write so much more.”

Cloud was blushing now, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, Tifa.” He offered her a small, easygoing smile, now once again reminded of how many burdens and stresses of the last year he had finally begun to be able to unload. 

Like Nanaki had said, he was beginning to feel lighter.

“I’m proud of you too,” Cloud said to Tifa. “I am. This city is lucky to have you.”

Somehow, her eyes managed to soften even further, the dark crimson sparkles in them bubbling away into a bright cherry red. She leaned forward into him, offering him a tight squeeze.

“Thanks, Cloud.”

Cloud just nodded, squeezing her back before she finally pulled away from him with a little sigh.

“I think you should go back first, otherwise the others are going to be suspicious if we come back at the same time. I need to fix my makeup anyway.”

Cloud wanted to say that he didn’t give a flying fuck what the others thought, but then he remembered that his mother was sitting outside, and that sent his cheeks into a full-blown red flare. He nodded.

“Okay, Tifa. I’ll just tell them you’re on the phone or something.”

Tifa nodded, giggling a little, and she was so adorable that Cloud couldn’t stop himself from pressing a final kiss to the center of her nose before he left her alone in the bathroom.

* * *

A few hours later, after the food had been devoured and the drinks were opened, after Cloud had signed everyone’s copies of his novel and Tifa and Barret had talked about her campaign and the upcoming election with the group, Marlene and Denzel began to yawn. Folia and Gwen took them inside of the house to lay on the couch while Barret remained on the patio, still nursing his beer. Claudia also rose to her feet, offering everyone hugs before kissing Cloud and Tifa on the cheek and heading inside to rest in the guest room, announcing to everyone that it was already far past her bedtime.

By now, the rest of their friends who remained were deep into drink, and with the kids and Claudia both gone, Aerith was sparking a joint, perched in Zack’s lap again. Cloud watched the plume of white smoke lift into the hair, drifting up toward the sky before dissipating among the backdrop of the moon in the sky overhead.

Tifa was also now sitting in Cloud’s lap, just as Jessie was perched in Biggs’ again, and Cloud couldn’t help feel a little smug that he finally now had Tifa the way that he’d always wanted her, that he could show the world how he felt about her, her arms wrapped tight around him as she leaned into him with all of her sweetness and her softness. And as she pressed her knees into his sides, holding onto him even tighter, he only felt more satisfied with himself knowing that she was bare under her dress and that her torn panties were stuffed inside of his pocket.

Tifa waved away the joint when it came in her direction, and Cloud declined it as well. He was already high enough on the woman in his lap.

“Did you guys ever think about the fact that the last time we were all sitting outside getting trashed like this together, not quite a year ago, Cloud and Tifa were the only ones who weren’t booed up?” Jessie began, flipping a wave of her auburn hair out of her face as she blew a thin line of smoke from her lips, up into the sky. Biggs was holding her around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, a happy, drunk look on his face. “And _now_ look at them.”

“Yeah, ‘look at them’ is right,” Zack suddenly chimed in. “I gotta be honest with you, Cloud. I didn’t think you had it in you. I really didn’t.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Cloud muttered sarcastically, but Zack only guffawed in response.

“I think everyone here just owes me thousands of dollars at this point,” Jessie stated, matter of factly. “I told all of you that they would never last. There was no way. I have an eye for these things, and I had them both read from day one.”

“Jessie,” Tifa warned, shaking her head and sipping from her red plastic cup.

But Jessie only laughed brightly in response. “I mean, just look at Tifa’s hair. Your ponytail was so much neater earlier tonight. Don’t think we didn’t miss how you two suddenly disappeared for like, twenty minutes, after Cloud’s book was revealed.”

“It was not twenty minutes!” Tifa instantly retorted, and Cloud dropped his face into her collarbone, feeling his cheeks flay away with fire.

“Oh, leave them alone, Jessie,” Aerith chided, wrapping her arm around Zack’s neck and pulling her fingers through his dark, messy hair. “You’re just as bad. We all are, let’s face it. Right, Zack?”

“Of course, babe,” Zack grinned up at her devilishly.

Jessie tsked under her tongue. “Sure, but I don’t go sneaking around pretending that I’m so innocent, hmm? We all know that those two are probably the worst freaks out of all of us.”

“Jessie!” Tifa shouted.

“Alright, enough of all of that,” Barret interrupted, turning away from where he stood overlooking the ledge with a disgusted look on his face. “Remember, we’re here to celebrate. This has been one helluva year.”

“You’re right,” Biggs agreed. “A lot happened, for all of us. But looking at Cloud and Tifa, I can’t say I’m not prouder for how much they accomplished this year despite everything that was happening to them.”

“It’s not just us,” Tifa protested. “It’s all of us. Biggs, you got promoted. Jessie got her first starring role on Broadway. Barret expanded AVALANCHE. Zack finished the police academy. And Aerith got her botany degree and started her own side business selling flowers online.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Wedge piped up from where he sat drinking beside Wymer. “I got a second job at the cat sanctuary in Bed-Stuy.”

“…Right,” Tifa agreed.

Cloud sat back in his chair, looking up at Tifa and admiring the profile of her face, dropping his hands to her hips as he watched the sparkle and the shine of the vermillion in her irises against the low lighting outside on the porch. In that moment, with the wind gently kicking up tendrils of her ponytail and her fringe, her lips full and her eyes dancing with a smile as she stared at her friends, Cloud reaffirmed that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, the sweetest and the kindest and the strongest, and she was finally his, to cherish forever.

Squeezing her hips, Cloud knew that he would never, ever let her go.

At the sensation, Tifa turned back to him, her smile brightening as she gifted him with it.

“It’s like I always say,” Barret began to preach, “There ain’t no gettin’ off this train we on. Y'all just gotta keep goin’. Yeah, this was a rough year, rougher for some of us than for others. But there’s always light at the end of the tunnel. Y’all proved that.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Aerith coaxed to the group, lifting her cup in the air. “You see? Everything’s alright.”

As the others lifted their cups to cheer in agreement, Cloud looked up at Tifa, his eyes meeting hers, sapphire crashing into ruby, their smiles syncing into one.

“I love you,” Cloud whispered under his breath.

“I love you more,” Tifa instantly responded.

And then she was kissing him, sweeter than any kiss they’d ever shared before, and Cloud felt himself fading away to another time and place where there was everything and nothing but her.

Yeah. Everything’s alright.

And it was.

_I’m not alone_.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she wrote, folks!
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> **Music Inspiration (including for Chapter Titles):**
> 
> [Last Train by The Midnight ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7y8F-2lZwQ)  
> [Brooklyn by The Midnight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ey30-sYvuU)  
> [Deep Blue by The Midnight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6D6iGeEl1o)  
> [Uprising by 3FORCE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIAZ5pu9MlY)  
> [Rabbit in The Headlights by Michael Oakley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvUiIukckCQ)  
> [All Night by PRIZM](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjVckOmCVUE)  
> [Tonight by Timecop1983](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcJ4evhLcCU)
> 
> **Film Inspiration:**
> 
> _When Harry Met Sally_ (1989)
> 
> **Character Notes:**
> 
> Nanaki: I wanted so bad for him to be in this story. I love him. But I really couldn't have a fire-tailed beast running around NYC. Lmao. 
> 
> Brian Lockhart: Listen. This guy gets a bad rap in my fics, I know. Lmfao. I don't think he's that bad canonically. He's easy to villainize. There wasn't a happy ending with him and Tifa in this story, but considering the way that he behaved, I think it was the most realistic outcome, if not a sad one.
> 
> Tseng/Rufus: TSENGRU IS TOTALLY CANON AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.
> 
> Aerith: Come on, Aerith growing weed is ALSO CANON. How else do they afford that house?!?!?
> 
> Tifa: Tifa running for political office was not originally planned, but CookieQueen/BreathingSlowly suggested to me that she reminded her of Alexandria Ocasio Cortez (former bartender? omg) and I just loved that so much. Thank you for that inspiration!
> 
> Jake Tapper: Please do not tell him that I have written fanfiction about him. Lmao
> 
> **Story/Setting Notes:**
> 
> Locations: Every place mentioned in this fic are real places in NYC (although it was brought to my attention that the Strand Bookstore is actually going out of business, which makes me very sad). 
> 
> Cloud's Novel: Lol I hope that wasn't too cheesy. I couldn't help myself. Also, the fantasy novel that Cloud picks up when book shopping with Tifa is actually Final Fantasy X (I am so corny, WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE STOP ME).
> 
> Also. This fic is probably the horniest Cloti I've ever written. It will be hard to top (but you know I will try).
> 
> I'm sure there is more to say but it's midnight and I'm exhausted. Thanks so much to everyone and to all my friends in this fandom for your love and endless support. I wish I could name you all, but you know who you are and you mean the world to me.
> 
> I hope you will continue to enjoy my Cloti stories! There's plenty more where this came from, including my current WIP, _Melodies at Midnight_.
> 
> And follow me on Twitter at @nitezintodreamz!
> 
> Until next time 💜💫💋


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